The Windows of His Soul
by pjzallday
Summary: (Post-Season 6) Spike returns to Sunnydale with a surprise or two for Buffy. Is his soul all that's new?...will it make any difference? *COMPLETE* (Some language/mature content)
1. Welcome Back

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This series is canon up to the end of season 6 (with a focus on Buffy and Spike) which that means all the wonderful and terrible things that have happened to that point in the lives of our TV friends are fair game. With that said.

DISCLAIMER: None of the aforementioned gang --- I just borrowed them over the summer.

FEEDBACK: Yes, please!

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One:  WELCOME BACK

Buffy was asleep.

It had been a long few days, but Willow's dark side had been reined in, Giles was recovering from his injuries, and another crisis, averted.

What a relief to know that everyone was OK: the world had been saved and life would go on.  Feeling the gentle weight of his strong arms around her gave Buffy the sense that even if the next apocalypse was just around the corner, she'd be alright.  Together they'd survive.

Morning came and he was gone.

Now Buffy was forced to realize that she wasn't "alright" and that the latest disaster was already upon her: the cataclysm of her heart. Spike was gone.  She didn't know where he was or if he'd ever be back.  All Buffy knew was that the last time they'd seen each other things had gone horribly wrong.  She was hurt, angry and frightened then, and she did what came naturally:  Buffy lashed out.  Spike had tried to force himself on her.  She had to make him stop; had to get him off of her; had to get him away from her. 

_"Ask me again why I could never love you!" she demanded clutching her robe._  The scene repeated over and over in her mind.   For weeks, Buffy had relived those few moments.  At first all she saw was the demon; only some evil soulless thing could ever try to force its will on a human. on a woman... on Buffy.

Things were different now and Buffy wished she could tell him.

Unsure when the images in her mind of that night changed, Buffy began to see his eyes.  These were not the gleaming yellow she'd seen so often during their initial encounters; eyes like so many of the vampires she'd seen come and go and turn to dust in the years since she'd first received her Calling.  No.  These were the same concerned blue eyes that comforted her when she'd look into them in those early days after she'd come back from the dead... when she needed someone to talk to.  Eyes that had said so much without words ever passing the air.  Eyes that reinforced that last night the truth she'd been unwilling to hear:  Spike was sorry.  Spike was shocked and ashamed and so full of remorse for what he'd tried to do... for what he had done.  Inside, Spike was a man.

And now, Spike was gone.  Gone and he hadn't said goodbye.  Heck, Spike hadn't even suggested he was going; he just left.  Angel told her he was going to leave.  Riley even gave her a chance to stop him before he left.  But now, just like with Riley, Buffy realized how she felt too late:  too late that she needed him; too late that she wanted him; too late with Spike, that she did love him.

------- o -------

Spike was asleep. 

It seemed as though days had passed.  He couldn't think straight.  Spike remembered enduring the challenges put to him by the cave demon and surviving, but everything else was such a jumble of sounds and images.  So weak now, just waking up was a challenge he wasn't sure he'd overcome.

As he lay there, Spike detected the smell of meat cooking over an open flame.  Pangs of hunger surged from his stomach.  Then through still closed lids, he felt brightness in his eyes and heat on his hand.  "Oh bugger!" he choked, grabbing back his hand as he lurched up and leaped away from the light.

He found himself at the mouth of the cave as the sun was starting to make its way into the darkness.  Peering down at his hand, Spike discovered no burn and that he felt no pain on his hand.  Blinking and looking around, desperate to understand what was going on, he discerned that the pain he felt was in his head (spinning from all that was going on in it), in his gut (screaming with hunger from days without food), and from his chest (where a heart long dead was now racing).

He gasped, "I'm alive," then collapsed.

------- o -------

Months passed and the warm summer nights were beginning to yield to cooler ones. 

As seemed usual for Sunnydale, evil had largely been on hiatus over the summer and things had been almost tranquil.  Out on a routine patrol, Buffy began to take stock of her life and how different things were from just a year ago.  The biggest change, of course:   the whole being alive thing. 

She had a new job at the local gym doing some personal training and teaching a few self-defence and aerobic classes 5 days a week.  It gave her a reasonable income and benefits, and kept her nights free to fulfill her duties as Slayer.  The job helped put her mind at ease about how she and Dawn would cope financially and gave her a sense of pride that her skills could be used to help people --- not that protecting the community from vampires or saving the world from total destruction on a semi-annual basis wasn't "helping people".

Her relationship with Dawn had improved.  Sure, most nights Buffy still couldn't spend with her younger sister, but the time they did spend together was good quality.  Sundays, they'd lay out a proper linen cloth and set the table with their mother's "guest plates".  Xander would join them for a real meal.  (Dawn, incidentally, was becoming quite a good cook and being able to contribute something to the household gave a much-needed boost to her self-esteem.)  Buffy was sure that the time and genuine attention given to her sister was at least partly responsible for the turn around in the teen's grades at summer school.  This coming school year, Buffy was confident that Dawn would be back on track.

Willow was away working with Giles and some of his "colleagues" trying to get herself back on the straight-and-narrow as regards her use of magic.  Instead of going "cold-turkey" this time, she was learning to control her darker side.  Buffy kept in touch with Willow regularly via the Internet and spoke with Giles every few weeks on the phone.  She was always so happy to hear the comforting sound of Giles' voice and Buffy knew from it that he was proud of her.

"You know, Buffy Anne Summers," she said out loud with a smile on her face and eyes beaming, "your life is really coming together."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she got the funny feeling she was being watched.  "Great... should've known things were going too well.  Let's get this over wi-"  Turning, she was caught mid-sentence by what she saw.

"Hello, Buffy," came the deep and dulcet tone of a voice she thought might be gone forever.

Buffy couldn't move; she just stood there with her mouth still stuck open. 

The dark figure stepped closer, an inquisitive look in his eyes.  Those eyes...  In them, she saw the awe of the night she'd returned from the dead, descending the stairs behind Dawn to meet him; the tender blue she searched the night Riley'd come back with his fabulous life slapping her in the face and she needed to know someone loved and wanted her. 

_"I love you.  You know I do...  I always want you."_  She could hear it in her head as if he'd just said it. 

"Spike..." Buffy whispered, almost choking.

"How've ya been?" asked Spike, trying to curb his angst.

"Spike..." she repeated, her heart fluttering.

Cocking his head and raising an eyebrow, Spike replied with a teasing tone, "Yyyyes.  you said that already."

"Wha- I mean... Where... er... I... How... ah..." Buffy couldn't get the words out; couldn't even figure where to start.  Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she tried again, "I... missed you."  Chin down but eyes wide looking up at him and with more than a little trepidation, she reached out her arms to him.

Quickly closing the gap and filling the void offered him by her outstretched arms, a relieved Spike wrapped his own around her tiny frame.  With tears welling he managed to utter, "I missed you too, luv.  So much."

As if startled by the reality of his presence, Buffy broke free and jumped back.  "Where've you been?  Why haven't you called or written or something?  Did it ever occur to you somebody might have been worried?  I mean.hello???  Sunnydale. Hellmouth.  Ring a bell?  And what about Dawn?  You left without even saying goodbye.  I mean...  I realize that-"

"Buffy," he cut her off.  "Tell you all about it.  But for now can we go somewhere and get a bite?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"  Buffy looked disgusted.

"Oh I dunno," Spike replied, rolling his eyes.  "Thought maybe we could get somethin' to eat.  Somewhere quiet. where we can talk."

"Sure... ah... why don't we pick up some of those chicken wings you like then we could go back to my place.  Dawn's staying with a friend tonight, so it should be quiet," she said, almost immediately afterwards wishing she hadn't.  _A public place..._ she thought.  _You should have picked a public place!_

"An' how is the Little Bit?" Spike inquired with concern and just the slightest hint of sarcasm.

"She's doing really well; we're doing really well.  I mean, things between us have really gotten better the past few months.  She..." Buffy stopped walking and looked at Spike.  "She was really hurt when you left.  Angry...  You didn't say goodbye and then Xander told her ab-"  _No__,_ she ordered herself, _I won't talk about that.  I don't want that incident to ruin this night._

"Buffy, I." _knew this wasn't going to be easy._  Spike sighed dropping his head and swallowing hard.  "I'm sorry.  Sorry about not saying goodbye.  'bout leaving.  And."  His head was shaking now.  It stopped and he looked up, his face full of sincerity and the pain of the burden in his beautiful blue eyes.  ".so sorry about how I behaved that night."

Placing a hand on his arm, she said with a tenderness that even surprised her, "I know."

Spike felt his heart skip a beat --- an _odd sensation, but not entirely unpleasant._

They resumed their walk in silence.

------- o -------

When they arrived at the chicken place, Spike took a seat at one of the outside tables while Buffy went in to order.  _This is going well,_ he judged.  _She offered a hug.  Would've been nice if it had lasted a little longer, but at least she hasn't tried to hit me in the face_.  Spike sat smiling to himself as he watched Buffy ordering at the counter.

Suddenly, he felt his chair being yanked from underneath him.  Spike stumbled to his feet then was grabbed by the arm and spun around.  Before he knew what was happening, he heard a crack as something hit his face.  Losing his balance, his ass hit the ground followed by the back of his head.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" came an angry voice.

"Bloody Hell," Spike mumbled one hand on his nose.

"Get up!" Xander demanded, ready to take another swing.

"Look mate," Spike began while slowly rising to his feet.  "'m not gonna fight you."

"Xander!" barked Buffy sharply, a serious scowl on her face.  "Leave him alone!  We're going."

"Buff.  What do you mean 'we'?  You're not letting Evil Dead here back into your life, are you?  After what he tried to do!"  Xander was livid.  "He's been gone.  And I for one say good riddance!"

Buffy set the take-out bag down on the table and walked to her friend.  "Xander please."  Putting her hand on his arm she said softly, "Spike's just come back.  He and I need to talk.  I'll be alright."

"But Buff-"

"Please..." she urged.  

Xander's face softened and some of the tension eased from his body. 

"I'll call you tomorrow. I'll be alright."

Xander wandered off as a somewhat annoyed Buffy turned back to Spike. 

"What happened?"

Still holding his nose, Spike replied, "Oh you know that wanker.  Blowin' off a little steam.  S'nothing."

"Nothing!?  Have you seen your face!?  Your nose?  The blood!?  How many times did you let him hit you?" she shrieked.

"Buffy, let's just go.  We'll eat.  We'll talk. "  He grabbed the bag and motioned her to go.  "Luv?"

------- o -------

When they arrived at her house and slowly climbed the front stairs, Spike felt a sick feeling wrench his gut remembering the last time he'd crossed that porch, rushing from the house after he'd attacked Buffy.  The flashes of the past flooded his mind causing him to stagger and drop the bag he was carrying.

"Are you OK?" Buffy questioned. 

Nodding, Spike steadied himself on the railing.

With him now below the porch light, Buffy noticed just how awful Spike's face really looked.  Clearly Xander had done a number on Spike's nose and the blood... well, there was a lot of it.

"Let's get you inside and clean you up.  Then we'll have something to eat.  There might even be some blood in the freezer I can warm up for you.  Looks like you could use a boost."  Buffy picked up the bag, set it inside the front door then led Spike up the stairs.

"Have a seat," she instructed, not even noticing that he hadn't followed her into the bathroom.  "I'll just grab a cloth and we'll have a look at that nose.  You're a mess."  She ran cold water on the cloth then turned to find Spike standing in the doorway with a somewhat frightened look on his face. 

His mind was flashing back again.  Spike turned his head down to the fuzzy green mat and cold tile floor onto which Buffy had fallen that night.  He could hear her pleas for him to stop, see her terrified face, hear his own voice growl at her...  _"You'll feel it again, Buffy.  I'm gonna make you feel it."_

"Spike?  What is it?  What's the matter?" Buffy looked at him as tears rolled down his face. 

"Buffy I..."

She took him by the arm and sat him down on the lid of the toilet.  "Is this about... about that night?  Is that why you're acting so..."  Buffy sighed and rested her hands on his shoulders.

Eyes wide and teary, Spike gazed up at her.

_Those eyes... such pain._  Without another thought, Buffy leaned down and kissed him gently then turned her head to whisper in his ear, "It's alright.  Don't think about it.  I know you're sorry.  And now that you're here, I want to tell you... I'm sorry too."

Her words made his chest ache.  _I can't believe I'm here.  That she's so close._

Slowly pulling away, Buffy began to wipe the blood from his face.  Once the cloth was covered in blood, she returned to the sink to rinse it before continuing.  When she looked up from the sink, she caught a startling glimpse in the mirror.

There behind her reflection was Spike, his soft blue eyes looking back at her.


	2. Revelation

Two:  REVELATIONS

Buffy gasped, "Spike?!"

"Buffy," he responded, well aware of the direction the conversation was headed.

"Do you see..."  She hesitated, staring at the mirror.

"Yep.  There you are," he teased, nodding at the glass.

With eyes and mouth wide, Buffy couldn't turn her gaze from the reflection.  _What IS this?_ she wondered.  She'd had plenty of experience talking to Angel and to Spike while near a mirror or window, and facing the illusion that she was talking to herself.  But there he was; there was Spike, his penetrating eyes staring back at her.

His hand on her arm, Spike turned Buffy to face him, settling her back tenderly to lean on the edge of the counter.  

She clutched his hand; held it; discovered it was warm.  "What happened to you, Spike?  Where have you been?"  Her tone expressed both her confusion and fascination.

Pulling her toward him and encircling her with his arms, he gave a little squeeze then released her and stepped back.  "Let's go downstairs, warm up some wings and pour ourselves a couple of stiff drinks."

"I suppose you won't be needing the blood from the freezer, huh?" she joked, a little uncertainly.

He huffed.  "Nope.  Seem to have lost the taste for it," he countered with a smirk as he headed for the hall.

"I'll be just a moment," Buffy said, closing the door. 

Returning to the sink, she splashed some water on her face and dried it on a towel_.  All those weeks thinking of him, dreaming of him when he was away..._  Finally she'd begun to put him out of her mind and now... _ Alive?  I don't know how, but Spike is alive.  _Never in all the time they'd been together or in the months since he'd left did the notion of him being alive occur to her.  _Does this solve problems?  Does it cause more?  New ones?  Where do we go from here?_  She heard music cue up in her head --- _"Where do we go from here?"  Great, now I'm hearing singing in my head _--- reflecting on that fitting question and another pivotal moment in her past with Spike, following the musical demon evil.

Buffy took a deep breath, opened the door and headed downstairs.  

Turning to the living room, she found Spike outstretched on the couch, asleep and the unopened take-out bag on the coffee table.  _Talk about weird, _she noted,_ Spike asleep in the middle of the night._

Reaching for the blanket draped over the arm of the couch, she initially thought to simply cover him. It then occurred to her that Dawn could come home and find him there. She wasn't sure any of them were ready for that little reunion, so Buffy instead gave Spike a nudge and helped him sit.  She slung one of his arms over her shoulders.  "Why don't you lie down in Willow's room," Buffy suggested pulling them both to standing.  "You can get a good night's sleep in there.  We'll talk more in the morning."

After helping him down to settle on the bed, Buffy turned to go.  Pausing at the door, she heard him breathe deeply.  "Good night... love," she whispered, closing the door behind her.  Then she went downstairs for something to drink, grabbing the bag from the coffee table and taking it to the kitchen.

------- o -------

"Buffy?!"  A door slammed.  "Buffy, where are you? You home?"

_Dawn.  What's she doing here?_  "In the kitchen," Buffy called back realizing the sun was up and she'd apparently fallen asleep at the table.

"Late night?" Dawn inquired, nodding at last night's Slayer-wear.

Not exactly sure where to start, Buffy responded, "Yeah... ah... I ran into... er... something unexpected.  Kept me busy most of the night.  What are you doing here so early?  I thought you'd be up all night with Janice then the two of you would sleep until noon."

"Yeah, that was the plan, but her mom's screaming this morning woke us up.  Looks like Sunnydale's latest evil is on the rise," Dawn suggested casually.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, surprised by her sister's offhanded remark.

"Well, I guess Janice's mom was going out to her car early this morning and discovered huge cobwebs covering a bunch of houses on the street.  No spider anywhere we could see though."

Pondering her next move, Buffy was about to propose a trip to the Magic Box to do some research when she heard the sound of footsteps above them.

"Hey," Dawn exclaimed excitedly, heading towards the stairs.  "Is that Willow?  When did she get back?"

"Dawn, wait!" the older Summers cautioned.  "It's not Willow."

Walking back to the kitchen, Dawn looked at her with a suspicious expression.  "Well if it's not Willow then who's upstairs?"

The feet overhead hadn't left Willow's room and seemed instead to just be pacing back and forth.

"Dawn, sit down," Buffy instructed, motioning to a chair next to hers at the table as she made her way to the fridge.  "I need some juice.  Do you want some?" she asked, reaching for a second glass.

"Yeah.  Thanks," her sister nodded, growing more unsure of what was going on.

Buffy set the juice down on the table and carefully eased herself back onto her chair, hoping that if she did it slowly enough she might have time to figure out what to say next.  "Well... ah..." Buffy's eyes darted around as if searching for something before settling on the table in front of them.  "I'm not sure of a lot of the details myself, but. ah. last night on patrol, I ran into-"

"Little Bit." 

Buffy hadn't even noticed that the pacing over-head had stopped, but Spike now stood in the doorway from the hall.

"Spike!" the girl screeched, leaping to her feet then rushing him with a huge hug. Just as he was closing his arms to return her embrace, Dawn pulled away and hit him.

"What is with you bloody Summers women and your fleeting affections?" he questioned with an uneasy eyebrow raised at Buffy.

"Where have you been?" Dawn demanded.  

An anguished look washed over Spike's face. 

"You could have let me know you were OK.  I was worried, and Buffy..." she trailed off.  "Hey... What happened last night?  You guys back together?" Dawn asked, quickly changing gears.

Buffy looked over to meet her sister's hopeful grin.

"Nibblet.  Got back late last night.  Big Sis' and I haven't really had a chance to talk," explained Spike in a low voice.

"Oh I get it!" Dawn giggled with a very nudge-nudgy wink-winky expression on her face.

"Dawn!" said Buffy sternly.

Spike continued, "Had a long trip and... ah... lots happened to me since. I was worn out. Fell asleep before Buffy and I could really have it out.  She just helped me up to Willow's room and..."

Noting his discomfort, Buffy changed the subject. "So what are we going to do about this giant spider business?  Spike, Dawn's been telling me that the street where her friend Janice lives is covered with huge webs," she explained.  "Got any ideas?"

"Sounds like Kralliq Spiders. Not likely any real human danger," he stated plainly.  "They mostly go for cats, small dogs, and the like.  Plus, they don't put up much of a fight against anything much larger.  It's the webs that cause the trouble.  Can end up completely trapped by 'em.  Bloody hard to get rid of.  Need a magic sword, spell or some such."

"Hmm... Sword I can handle, but we're a little light on the magic these days; Willow's in England with Giles, and Tara... ah... she was killed."  Buffy sighed and locked onto Spike's eyes.  "We've got alot to talk about."  She paused glancing away.  "But for now, we've got to figure out what to do about the spider situation.  Give me a few minutes to clean up and change, then we can head to the Magic Box."  She brushed by Spike in the doorway, causing him to quiver as she passed then rushed up the stairs. 

Dawn sat drinking her juice while Spike hovered in the doorway.  

When he heard the bathroom door close and the shower start, he pulled up a chair next to Dawn.  "Bit..."  He let out a deep breath.  "I know that you're probably not very happy with me right about now, and I'm sorry I didn't keep you up on what I've been doing.  I want to be able to sit down with you and tell you everything..." 

Dawn thumped her glass down on the table, pouting.

Spike took another deep breath, set his hands down on the table and proceeded, "I want to tell you about what's been going on with me, but I need to talk with Buffy first.  Please Bit, we've got a lot to resolve and there are some things I really need Buffy to hear from me."

They sat in silence a while, then Dawn got up from the table.  "Want some breakfast?  I could do some eggs?" she offered with a nervous smile.

"Love some."  _That wasn't so hard, _Spike thought._  Seems the Little Bit's growing up_.

------- o -------

"You guys ready?" Buffy inquired as she rushed into the kitchen.  She pulled a granola bar from the cupboard and gulped down the rest of her juice.  "We should get going; the sooner we find a way to get rid of these webs, the sooner we can get back to... more important matters."

Together they headed for the front door.  Dawn stopped in the hall. 

"Are you coming, Dawn?" Buffy asked, curious as to why the girl had stopped.

"Sure, but... ah... Spike?"  Her forehead furrowed.  "I mean... Aren't you forgetting something?  Sunny California in the daytime:  not so good for your complexion."

"Yes, Dawn.  One of many things we'll talk about --- when this is over."

------- o -------

Even months later, the Magic Box still showed signs of damage from the Giles-Willow battle in the spring.  

After a few awkward moments of pleasantries, Buffy, Spike and Dawn filled Anya in on the latest trouble to strike Sunnydale.

"Well," Anya began, as she pulled a book from the shelf then set it down on the counter. "It sounds like it could be Kralliq Spiders, but... "  She flipped through the book, pausing to scan the page.  "Ah yes, here it is."  Anya shook her head. "The climate conditions are wrong.  It's way too cool here in Sunnydale now for Kralliq Spiders.  They need much higher temperatures and the humidity is all wrong."  She glanced around as if searching the air for an answer.  "I suppose you could still try the magic sword routine, but it will take me a while to track one down.  Not too practical to keep them in stock in this part of the country, you know," she remarked.  "Why don't you go see if you can find the spider in the meantime.  It would certainly save time in the clean up if you stopped the thing from making anymore webs."

Grabbing a couple of stakes and daggers, the others headed off to Janice's. 

------- o -------

As they approached the street, Buffy, Spike and Dawn heard screams and charged towards them.  There, they did indeed discover enormous webs covering the street and there was a small crowd of people running toward them with terrified looks on their faces. 

"Looks like we've come to the right place," Buffy declared.

"... or the wrong place!" Dawn countered, seeing the enormous black arachnid racing forward on its great furry legs.

Springing into action, Buffy leaped atop the creature, which was tall as a horse, while Spike pulled Dawn to safety.  Lifting a stake preparing to impale one if its many eyes, she felt the beast buck and heard a loud resonating, "Cut!"

Buffy stopped suddenly and peered in the direction of the voice.  To her surprise, there was a large group of people gathered around several film cameras, cranes, lighting standards, and other equipment. 

"What the hell are you doing?" blared an angry voice though a megaphone.

"Saving Sunnydale..." she squeaked, stake still raised.

"Well, if you're done now, we'd like to get back to work," the guy groused.  "OK people.  Let's reset the spider.  Where's the touch up crew?  Bug's going to need some buffing..."

People began to mill about and the "terrified" mob grumbled back for another take.

Embarrassed, Buffy slipped off the mechanized creature into Spike's outstretched arms.

"Looks to me like it's already had a 'Buffing'," he said gleeful smirk.

"Well, one thing that hasn't changed," Buffy retorted, "your annoying sense of humour."


	3. Falling for You

Three:  Falling for You

As they neared the house, Spike slowed.  With each step, tension built within him knowing that he'd have to tell the tale of what had happened to him.  _As long as the Little Bit's around, _he figured,_ could keep things vague.  Maybe just stick to the wheres and whats, and what I can figure about the hows.  Leave out the whys and the because of whom._  His mind began to race as he tried to figure out where he'd start... what he'd say.

"I'm gonna get a soda.  You guys want something?" Dawn asked as she breezed through to the kitchen.

"That'd be great, Dawn," Buffy replied, taking off her jacket.

"Thanks 'Bit," Spike said with a nod as he stepped cautiously into the living room.  "So... ah... that was quite the red herring out there today, eh?"

"Yeah.  But I should be so lucky as to walk away from every fight with only my pride hurting," Buffy joked, plopping down on the couch then motioning for Spike to sit.  Taking a pop from her sister, she said, "Thanks Dawn."

"So, are we gonna beat around the bush or are you gonna tell me what's goin' on?" the girl grumbled.  "How come you could be out in the sun?  Some sort of magic, or what?"  Dawn sat down on the floor at Spike's feet staring at him expectantly.

"Dawn!" Buffy snapped.

Spike assured, "S'all right, Slayer.  Guess it's about time for some answers."  He took a deep breath then exhaled slowly, which seemed almost strange to him to do without a cigarette --- even though he'd done a lot of it in the past 24 hours.  "Well, when I left... you know, ah... I travelled to Africa.  Quite a trip, that was.  Had to stow away in the cargo hold of a ship."  Spike was putting on a good show: full of gestures and facial expressions.  "Not so bad, though.  Lots of junk to root through. Kept me busy.  Hot and cold running rats and all.  Plenty of fresh nibbles." 

"Gross Spike!" Dawn grimaced.

"Anyway... I was looking for... well, I'm not sure what, but there was this master demon, ya see.  Living in a cave, he was.  Really powerful.  Heard he'd grant wishes and the like for them whot could survive his challenges.  Well, the long and short of it is, when I walked away I was alive."  Spike settled into his seat, relieved that at least the gist of the story was out in the open.

"Well, yeah. And..." Dawn prodded, not quite understanding.

Buffy spoke up, "Dawn, what Spike is saying is that he's not a vampire anymore; he's alive."

"Alive?  You mean..."

"Dawn, I'm a 'real boy'," he smirked.  "I eat.  I breathe.  I can stroll through the park in the middle sunniest day of the year.  And I can finally see what I'm doing when I colour my hair."

"And you're still going with the platinum blond?" Buffy snickered. 

Spike turned his face away, feigning hurt.

Then the phone rang.  

"I'll get it."  Dawn jumped to her feet and headed to the kitchen.

"There's a lot you're leaving out, isn't there?" posed Buffy knowingly.

Spike caught her eyes.  "Was hoping the 'Cliff Notes' version would do the trick."  He paused, wanting the brief story to be enough for Buffy as well for Dawn, but knowing it wouldn't be.

When Dawn came back, Buffy inquired about the call. 

"Oh, that was just Janice.  Her mom figured her dad should cough up for a shopping spree to settle her nerves over that giant spider thing.  I guess he'd signed some paper with the film company to OK their house being in the spider movie... or something."  Dawn shrugged.  "Whatever. He didn't tell her at least... so there was all that screaming and stuff.  I don't know... but Janice wanted me to go with.  I thought I should stick around here, huh?"

"Actually, Dawn," Buffy began, a mix of sincerity and urgency in her tone, "I think this might be easier for Spike and me if we had some time on our own.  To talk.  Do you understand?"

Dawn looked to Spike who nodded.  She rolled her eyes and grabbed her coat.  "And Spike," she remarked with a shy smile, "cool about the being alive thing."  Then she was out the door.

Shaking her head, Buffy turned to Spike.  "These kids today... They get distracted so easily."

Taking a chance, Spike slid closer to Buffy on the couch and swung an arm over her shoulder.  "Can distract you too, luv," he suggested lecherously, only half joking.

"Spike..."  Her heart fluttered.  _This is the Spike I remember._  "I think we should talk first."

Spike shifted and looked at her with a wide-eyed smirk.  "First?"

_Yeah, definitely the Spike I remember._  "I mean, I think we should talk," she corrected.

"Figured you might," Spike replied, disappointed if not surprised. "What shall we talk about, then?"

"How about you begin at the beginning," she recommended. "I know it might seem obvious, but . why did you leave?"

Uneasy, Spike moved back to where he'd been sitting on the end of the couch.  Before he could even begin images of that night months ago in the bathroom flashed across his mind.  _Focus, you stupid git._  "Well, I was feeling pretty awful when I left you here that night.  Went back to the crypt... Tried to numb my feelings... Clem happened by," he rattled off.  "Talked a bit.  Helped me see that I needed to do something to turn my life around.  Guess I'm lucky he did too.  Might've done something I'd have regretted..."  He hesitated, looking deep in to Buffy's eyes.  ". maybe even more than I regretted what I'd done to you."

Buffy looked away, feeling the tears forming in her eyes.

"So, I grabbed a couple of things, got on my motorcycle and set off for places unknown." Spike paused and took a long sip of his pop.  "Eech... How can you people drink this stuff?" he said, hoping to lighten the mood a little. 

Buffy gave a half-smile and a shoulder shrug.

"Well, after a few weeks of hanging out in demon flop-houses and bars, I learned about this guy --- master demon, like I said.  Heard he could read one's mind and grant deepest desires."  _Funny..._ he chuckled lightly.  "Anyway... I went as far as I could on my bike.  Boarded a couple trains, semi-trucks and that sort before stowin' away on the freighter. Made my way to one of the darkest regions of Africa.  When I met up with that demon, I thought I was ready for anything.  Was ready to die if that's what it took.  Least that would end the... the feelings I was having."

Buffy just sat still and quiet, finding this harder to hear with every passing sentence --- harder to hear, just as she was certain it was harder for him to talk about.  She wanted to reach out to him, but couldn't; it took everything in her just to keep from crying.

As Spike got deeper into the story, he felt it increasingly difficult to look at her.  His heart ached; he wished she would say something; and he was really starting to regret giving up smoking.  Another breath.  "I'll skip the gorier details and just say that there were these brutal trials.  Ponce didn't figure me to be able to handle his challenges," he growled.  "Took some doing, I'll admit, but I bested every one."

"So then he made you human again?" Buffy managed to get out.

"Well, I figured he'd just yard out that bleeding chip in my 'ead.  Come to think of it, I've no idea whether it's still there or not," he pondered, cocking his head to the side.  He shrugged.  "Anyway... that's when the wanker grabbed my chest and told me my soul was returned."  He shook his head.  "'Bloody hell,' I thought.  'How is that what I wanted?  What I asked for?  Could read my mind, they said.  My arse.  Gonna turn me into the bleeding poof himself,' I thought.  'Gonna get all moody and broody.  Bad enough I've got this bloody chip,'" he said, smacking his head, "'now, you're sticking me with a soul as well. Well, what the bleeding hell was the bloody point of all this.' I figured I was worse off than I started."  He balled his hands up into fists.  "As if I wasn't in enough pain already feeling like I did about you..."  With wild wide eyes, he looked at Buffy before turning away.  "Oh yes," Spike said in a melodramatic high pitch tone as he leapt to his feet.  He was becoming quite agitated.  "We've heard all about Spike.  Got himself neutered by a bunch of toy soldiers then got what was left of him zapped by a soul.  Hear between the guilt and electrical shocks, he set himself on fire when the chip short circuited as he beat his head against the wall."

Buffy stood up slowly and stepped toward him.  Reaching an arm out, she touched his back and began rubbing in the hope of calming him.

He startled, throwing his hands in the air.  Buffy lost her balance and fell back on the couch.

"Buffy!" Spike yelled.  "Oh god luv."  He snapped out of his crazed state.  Breathing hard now, he dropped to the floor, arms on Buffy's knees and wept.  "I'm sorry... so sorry."

She cautiously lifted her hand to his head and gently ran her fingers through his hair, causing him to shiver slightly at her touch.  "Shhh... It's OK.  Take a deep breath.  It's OK.  I'm fine.  You're safe.  Shh... "

He took some time to regain his composure, struggled a little to sit back on the couch, sipped a while on the pop...

Together they sat in silence.

When he seemed calmer, Buffy took his hand.  "Do you think you can go on?"

"Fine now," he replied, eyes still blurred by tears. 

_Those eyes..._

"I was pretty badly beaten.  Probably looked a right mess.  Lay there in that dark cave for what seemed like days.  Nothing to eat.  Nout to drink," he remarked.  "I was really starting to feel that the hunger and thirst was hurting me more than the wounds so I dragged myself up and made my way out of the cave.  Didn't quite make it on my first attempt."  He huffed with a half-smile.  "Woke up after the sun had come up just inside the mouth of the cave.  Thought I was on fire what with the smell of burning flesh and all.  That's when I realized I was alive.  Odd feelin' that.  Being alive after being dead so long."

"Know what you mean," Buffy added, smiling coyly. 

At that moment, he looked up at her.  Her hair seemed to glow in the light cascading over her from the late afternoon sun streaming through the window.  _My beautiful Buffy._  He gazed at her in awe a moment before continuing.  "Turns out there was a small village nearby.  Guess they were worshippers of the demon or some such 'cause they seemed right impressed when I crawled out of there alive."  Quickly he amended, "At all, in fact.  They offered me food and water, shelter.  Dressed my wounds.  Took right good care of me for days after when I did little else but sleep.  When my body got strong again, that was when the real suffering began.

"Now, if you ever tell the Great Poof that I said this, I'll deny it," Spike warned, "but I've got to give old Angel credit for livin' as long as he has with the burden of all the atrocities he's said to have committed before getting himself cursed.  I mean, those first days of my new life were a living hell of violent images of what I'd done, of what I'd been for more than a hundred years."  He sighed again.  "S'pose I got off easier than the old man though.  Havin' Dru by my side for most of those years gave me purpose outside the killing.  Love of a good woman and all," Spike said with a fatigued and slightly hysterical laugh.

"I wasn't so much for playin' with my prey like some.  I ate what I needed, shared with Dru when she was too weak to fend for herself.  Wasn't one for getting my rocks off torturing people.  Did my fighting with them what had a chance of defendin' 'emselves.  Guess that's why I sought out and found myself three Slayers in my day.  The challenge of the fight and all."  He glanced up with a reflective look and a hint of pride. 

"Course there was that third Slayer, ya know," he said a fiendish smile curling his lips as he shook his head, eyes staring off blindly.  "She'd be both my death and resurrection. not to mention all the E-rections," he finished, turning to Buffy with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

Buffy gasped then bit her lip, embarrassed by his admission.

"Buffy, you made me want to be a better man.  Spent my last years as a vampire trying to do good for you.  Did all I could think of on my own to win you over," he insisted.  "When I'd finally given up all hope that you would ever love me, I set out to find someone who could help me.  Get me back to the way I was. Big Bad and all.  Hell, I didn't even realize when I went to that demon what he knew about me on sight: that what I really wanted was to be a man." He looked her straight in the eyes, "For you, luv."

With that, Buffy was lost in the emotion.  "Spike..." she exclaimed in a breathy tone leaning into him, kissing him firmly and passionately.


	4. Inner Struggle

Four:  INNER STRUGGLE

_Can't believe this is happening_.  "Oh Buffy," Spike gasped for breath.  "I've missed you.  Missed being with you."

Until that moment, Buffy could think of nothing but the kissing.  Distracted slightly by the brief split, she noticed how familiar and yet how different this was --- especially for the two of them.  _His lips... his mouth... his tongue... so warm and wet._  Their kisses:  passionate, deep and firm without being savage.  Buffy leaned in closer sliding her hands under his shirt.  _Still so hard..._ she noted, gliding her hands up the ripples of his abs and across his muscular chest.  But now she could feel his heart pound --- so strongly, ever faster as his excitement heightened at the feeling of her soft hands on his skin.

Spike raked his fingers through her long golden locks.  _Her hair..._  He breathed in the scent of it as he felt it fall in cascades over their bodies.

As their desire deepened, their breathing became more shallow; their hands moved more frantically.  _More, I need more._  Together, hungry for the feeling of skin against skin, they tugged at each at the other's shirt, breaking from their embrace only to shed the cotton skins that separated them.

Wanting to savour the moment, Spike held Buffy at arms length studying her delicate form. _Exquisite..._ Floating his hand over the silky skin of her shoulder, brushing the hair away as he moved up the slight curve of her neck, along her jaw-line to her chin, he relished the feel of her.

As his fingers crossed her lips, she kissed them gently.  Encouraging the last one into her mouth, she licked and sucked it attentively before giving a teasing nip.  

All the while they gazed deeply into each other's eyes.  _This must be a dream..._

His hand ventured gingerly back down her neck to cup one of her lace-covered breasts.  She shuddered at the tenderness of his touch.  With his free hand he pulled her in to straddle his lap.  Kissing her deeply again, he unhooked her bra and seductively slid it off her shoulders, dropping it to the floor.

With one hand caressing his chest, Buffy drew the other behind his neck.  Leaning into him, she began to nip and suck on his earlobe.  The sensation caused Spike to squirm and shift his weight on the couch, the tightness in his pants becoming increasingly difficult to bear.  With that subtle cue, Buffy eased her hand from his chest, over his abs, to rest on the growing bulge beneath her. 

_This is bloody amazing... Yes!  _As she began to unbutton his fly, Spike panted, "Oh God... Buffy."  _I need you... Need you to love me,_ his mind and heart cried.

"I want you," she said breathily.

_No... Not just that.  It's not enough.  Love me.  Please.  Love me._  He couldn't take it.  _Stop.  This is too much.  Too soon.  Too._ He tensed and pulled away grabbing her hand, stopping her from freeing him from his denim prison --- stopping her from doing what he so vehemently wanted her to do.  "Buffy, not like this.  Not now," he exclaimed with an almost audible pain in his chest.

"I don't understand.  What's wrong?"  Desperate, trembling and confused, she shook her head. "Spike. please," she whimpered.

Spike cradled one side of her head in his hand and she pressed into it, finding solace in his touch.  Brushing a tear from her cheek, he looked deep into her glistening eyes and spoke, "Buffy... I do want you --- more than you can imagine.  So much that it almost kills me... to stop. But not like this.  We can't rush into anythin', luv.  Not now.  Things are different... I'm different."  _But I'm so afraid that you still can't love me._

She looked hurt, rejected, and it grieved him to know what his words and actions were doing.  _I'm so sorry... but I need more this time..._  But then his alter ego kicked in._ What are you doing, ya pillock?  Go ahead: shag 'er silly!  It's what she wants.  What you want._  Clearly having a soul didn't free the bearer of his lusty thoughts.

_Oh God... What's wrong with me?  He doesn't love me anymore?  Damn it!  Again too late!_ Buffy slumped.

He shook his head, "Buffy. No." and quickly cast his eyes away then back to hers.  "The way I feel about you hasn't changed.  I love you.  I do.  But now... Buffy, I'm alive now.  It's not like before when you just made me feel alive," he chuckled, pulling her head to his chest.  He held her tightly with one arm while the other stroked her hair.  "My heart beats.  Blood flows through me.  I'm alive... and therefore presumably capable of creating life."  _What's happened to me?_

Buffy jerked back, astonished.  Not only had the idea of getting pregnant never crossed her mind, she was stunned that it had occurred to Spike.

_A little reality check and now she'll stop... God she's gorgeous._  He smiled, a warmth in his eyes that went right through her.  "I'm still just getting used to this new life of mine.and I'm hoping you're getting comfier with yours."  He paused looking for affirmation.  "Thought maybe we could just slow things down and get to know each other. Learn about our new lives together."

Together they sat silently for a moment.

"Or, if you'd prefer..."  He waggled a brow.  "I could just nip out to the chemist and nick us some..."

Buffy let out a brief laugh, then took his head in her hands.  "Stay with me now."

"' course, luv. Always."  _As long as you want me.__ As long as you'll have me. 'Til you tell me to go..._

She saw the look of awe cross his face... his eyes, much as she had seen them that first day of her new life.  _Seems right,_ she thought, _for our new lives to begin in your eyes. Your beautiful eyes._  Suddenly self-conscious, she shifted to get up. 

His heart sank as she slipped off his lap and began to collect the clothes they'd shed.

"Hate for Dawn to walk in and see this.  She wouldn't understand..." Buffy said, holding the small collection over her breasts with one hand, "Well, she probably would but... so not going there."  Then, she offered the other hand to Spike.

Uncertain as to what was to follow but trusting Buffy implicitly, he grasped the tiny hand and rose to his feet.  Sliding the clothes-filled hand around him, Buffy pulled Spike close to her, eyes fluttering closed as she moved up to kiss him.

A tender kiss that moved both of their hearts.

Then, leaving the comfort of his lips, she dotted soft pecks across his cheek and whispered a simple, "Thank you," in his ear.  Buffy pulled away from him and turned toward the hall.  Still clutching his hand, she led up the stairs.


	5. Out with the Old

Five:  OUT WITH THE OLD

The sun had set on a very long and emotional day.

Spike had shared the tale of his quest and exposed some of the effects of his newly acquired humanity.  Buffy had suffered a little public embarrassment trying to fight a would-not-be evil mechanical bug and felt the sting of rejection at the thought Spike no longer loved her. Together they would renew some of the physical closeness they once shared as they rode a whirlwind of passion and tenderness that made each of them ache for want of more.

And now Buffy was slowly climbing the stairs to her bedroom, clinging to the warm hand of the man that everything-inside-her-was-telling-her-she-loved... the man she loved_.  I can't believe this is real...  That Spike is alive... alive and here with me.  That he still cares about me.  Loves me.  In spite of all the awful things I said to him...  In spite of all the bruises and beatings... He loves me._  She took a cleansing breath to fight the tears forming in her eyes at her feeling of joy.

Spike followed, bound not only to his beloved by hands but by the adoration of his heart yearning for hers.  As he reached the landing, his apprehension of what might come to pass as they crossed over the threshold to Buffy's room weighed heavily upon him.  _Buffy, I hope you know what you're doing.  I won't be able to resist temptation a second time,_ he worried.

Pushing wide the door to her room, she ushered him to sit on the edge of her bed. 

_Her bed..._ The tension was thick; his anticipation, overwhelming.

She released his hand, _his strong warm hand..._ and stepped back, turning to her closet.

As Buffy crouched --- perhaps to pull something from the floor on the closet --- Spike studied the arch of her still bare golden back; the feminine curve of her hip; her tight yet shapely ass. Locked in his stare, he startled when she jumped up suddenly.  Clearly he'd been distracted by the glorious walking-tour his eyes had taken down Buffy's well-formed body because he hadn't even noticed she'd put on a light sweater.

She stood before him now, eyes gleaming, lips curling into the hint of a grin.  "I've got something for you."  Her tone threw him: not seductive... more. giddy, like a kid at Christmas as she held out a rather large and battered gift box.

Accepting it, he purposefully brushed his hands over hers before taking the box and placing it beside himself on the bed.  He removed the lid then huffed with a smirk, knowing on sight what the box contained.  Lifting it by the collar as he rose to his feet, he pulled out his old familiar black leather duster.  He whipped the coat around and slid it over his bare torso in an almost dizzying flash of ebony and ivory.  Beaming, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.  _It smells of her:  so sweet and enticing._

As she looked at him, Buffy reflected on the many times in the weeks after he'd gone that she put on the duster --- late at night, when she'd awoken from a dream of him. missing him. Wearing his coat, she was able to imagine he was near with the robust blend of scents --- old leather, cigarette smoke, blood, sweat and booze --- hypnotizing her into the belief that she was wrapped in his embrace.  _Not the most appealing combination,_ she thought now, but while he was away it made her feel closer to him.  _That's weird:  he doesn't smell like that anymore, _she realized.  

"Spike? Have you quit smoking?"

"Where did that come from?" he asked, though he was pleased that she'd noticed.  Spike had indeed given up cigarettes.  In part for Buffy, whom he knew was never really thrilled by them but also for himself.  Once he'd had a chance to adjust to the idea of his new life, he thought he'd better make the most of it, try to stay healthy.  He figured he was going to have to work pretty hard now to keep up with his Slayer physically.  Though he was well aware that her strength would now be far beyond his own, he'd be damned if he let himself be beaten by anyone or anything else.  He still wanted to do all he could to help keep her safe... to watch her back... and her front... and her top... and her bottom.  He felt a twinge of pride in what he'd done.

"Gee, it's... ah... getting kinda late and I'm starved.  Want to see what we can dig up in the kitchen?" she asked, adding jokingly, "And by that I don't mean in any sort of literal sense."  _Hey, this is Sunnydale.  People are always digging stuff up_.

Spike slipped off the coat and traded it for his T-shirt, then followed her out to the hall.

As they headed back downstairs she suggested slyly, "I think a little shopping might be in order."


	6. Discovery

Six:  DISCOVERY

Buffy and Spike went by the cemetery that night to give it a good once over, dusting a few fledglings as they passed.  Spike wanted to swing by his crypt to pick up some of the more sentimental things he'd left behind when he'd run off all those months ago.

Though now human, Spike seemed quiet capable of holding his own in a fight.  While he lacked the brute strength of his vampire years, the skill he'd refined in that time shone through.  He'd maintained his keen sense of timing and was quick on his feet --- when he was on his feet, that is.  Seems he'd developed an affinity for leaping through the air, using the full force of his body and inertia to plough down vamps and other demons prior to doing them in. 

Buffy realized she'd never really taken the time to appreciate the grace with which he moved until that night.  Good thing too because just as she was taking note of it, a large determined-looking vamp struck her down.  

"Why am I not surprised?" Buffy muttered. "Take a second to stop and smell the roses, end up with your face in the dirt."  Pushing up on her arms then somersaulting her body forward, she sprang back to her feet poised to attack the hulking figure before her.  "Didn't your mother ever tell you to pick on someone your own size?"  She lunged at him, stake falling just short of its target.

Now it was Spike who was enjoying the show, the dance.  He'd been her "partner" in that dance so many times before, both as her foe and as her... _Friend?  Confidant?  Lover?  Whipping boy?_  He couldn't decide on an appropriate term.  In those days, he'd sensed the excitement in her blood as it coursed through her veins with an intensity he could almost taste.  That sensation was gone now, but he could still imagine it --- and it still aroused him.  Spike knew she needed to burn off a little pent up energy.  He'd learned from experience that his lending a hand in these everyday fights was more often met with annoyance than appreciation, so he just kept an eye out for unwelcome guests as he took in the performance.

With a moan and a cloud of dust, the music stopped. The dance was over.

"I'll never tire of that," Spike said as he hopped off the large headstone on which he'd been perched.

Buffy responded with a questioning look as she brushed herself off and strolled towards him.

"Watching you," he explained.  "You're breathtaking when you dance."  He paused then added, "And now I can say that for a fact."  He took a few exaggerated gulps of air.  "Yep, breathtaking." 

Buffy giggled.  "Come on.  Let's finish up.  I could use a shower.  Eech... and a toothbrush," she grimaced, noting the dirt in her mouth from the tumble she'd taken.

As they wandered together through the headstones surveying the land on the way to the crypt, Buffy stopped abruptly and held up a hand.  "Shh." 

Spike could tell she was listening, but to what he hadn't any idea.

"I'm afraid your trip to the crypt might not be as easy a homecoming as you expected. Sounds like there's quite a few of them in there," Buffy indicated. 

_Funny... I hadn't noticed,_ Spike thought woefully, having not yet adjusted to the deficiency of his now human hearing.

"Wait here," Buffy ordered as she stalked in to have a closer look.

An irritated expression overtook Spike's face. "Wait here?" he mumbled.  "Bugger that."  He followed.  When he was close he sneered, "Guess you've forgotten, I'm not the waitin' type."

Annoyed he hadn't complied with her instruction, Buffy retorted, "You were big on the waiting this afternoon," alluding to the brakes put on during their passionate encounter earlier that day.

Spike halted. "Ouch."  He clutched at his heart as if mortally wounded by the jibe. _I suspected that hadn't gone over so well..._  Then an odd look of satisfaction came over his face.  _She wants me._ He nodded contently.

As they approached the crypt, the voices became easier to make out.  "Sounds like there are at least half a dozen of them," Buffy estimated.  "Maybe more... and one of them is... shit.  Harmony."

"So what's the trouble, Slayer. We can take 'em."

She backed off from the crypt before replying.  "Don't you get it, Spike?  Or don't you care?" Buffy asked.  "Unless we can take the whole lot of them, word'll be on the street in no time that you're human now.  You weren't exactly Mr. Safe-guy as a vampire --- practically every demon in town was gunning for you," she noted.  "Hate to be the one to break this to you but you just aren't as strong as you used to be.  You can't go running into every fight half-cocked."  _Poor choice of words,_ her eyes rolled up as she noted to herself.

"Come on, Slayer. I can still fight the good fight and all," Spike insisted as he stood tall, chest out, head high.

"Keep walking around like that and we might just as well slap a target on your chest," the Slayer said cynically.  "We're just going to have to let this one go for now.  We can come back in the morning.  Check things out.  If they're staying here, maybe we'll catch them asleep.  I know it's not exactly playing fair.  But hey.  Better them than you... er... us.  Better them than us."

------- o -------

Dawn was home when they arrived back from patrol. She was curled up on the couch eating popcorn and watching a TV.

"Hey," she greeted as they stepped into the foyer.

"Hi Dawn."

"Nibblet."

"Oh. Buffy. Xander called."

_Shit. Meant to call him today._

"Told him you were probably patrolling," Dawn said.  "He said he needed to talk to you.  I mean, he sounded pretty insistent.  Didn't care how late you got in..."

"Thanks Dawn.  I'll call him now."  Buffy looked to Spike.  "You'll be OK?" 

He nodded then she ran upstairs to call from her room, closing the door behind her.

------- o -------

"Xander?  It's Buffy."  She paused as he acknowledged her.  "Yeah, I know.  I'm sorry I didn't call sooner.  Things have been a little... crazy around here today," she explained quickly reflecting on the day's events.

"Buffy, I was worried.  Are you OK?" her friend asked.  "I mean... Spike... ah..."

"Yeah.  I'm fine.  It was a bit of a shock at first," Buffy remarked.  "Sure you felt it too, huh? Seeing him again."

"Yeah, 'shocked':  like I wired myself to an electrical box and flipped on the juice," he barked.

"Xan-der."

"But Buff. That jerk ticks me off," he grumbled.  "It was bad enough before with his little obsession, but after I saw what he did to you---"

She interrupted, "I know Xander... and I appreciate your concern but things are fine now."

"So did you have it out?  Tell him to get lost?  Leave town?"  A hopeful tone carried through the phone line.

_Actually I bought him dinner, brought him home, and tucked him into Willow's bed, spent the afternoon ripping his clothes off, fondling him and just about-_  "Ah... he's downstairs with Dawn," she replied.

"What?!"

"Xander, believe me when I say 'he's changed'," she insisted.  _And in ways that will surprise even you!_

"But-"

"Look, I was hoping you'd still come for dinner tomorrow," she began, changing the subject.  "I don't know whether Spike will be here, but... he might.  Either way we should try to keep everything else as normal as possible.  Sunday dinner's family time, Xander," Buffy reminded fondly.  "And I need to have my family with me."

"Sure Buffy. I'll be there."

Buffy was relieved.  "Great, I'll tell Dawn.  She loves to cook for you-"

"Because I love to eat," he finished.

"Oh, and Xander?  We might have some new Vampire action brewing.  I may need your help if anything comes of it," she said, partly because she hoped to bolster his esteem and shift his focus from Spike.

"Sure Buffy.  Whenever you need me."

"OK then, we'll see you tomorrow.  Bye... and thanks again for your concern."  She hung up and sat down on her bed with a long slow exhale.  "Now what?" Buffy wondered aloud.  "Well, as Scarlet O'Hara says, 'I'll think about that tomorrow'... or something???  For now, I need a shower."

------- o -------

Downstairs, Spike was being brought up to date on the big events of that past spring's crisis.  He listened to Dawn tell of how scared and distraught she was when she found Tara dead on the bedroom floor; how she was afraid to leave Tara alone, even though she knew that gentle soul wasn't really there anymore.  It wrenched his insides when Dawn told him that Buffy had been shot, and he hadn't been there to help her.

She told him about Willow going crazy with the black magicks, bent on seeking her revenge on Warren and the other nerds.  

It shocked him to hear that she'd actually killed a man and been willing to kill Giles and everyone else on Earth.  Most of all he felt shame when she told him that Buffy had taken Dawn to his crypt so he could protect her from Willow during the crisis.  _Even after what I tried to do to her... she still trusted me with Dawn.  How could I run away when they needed me?_

"Yeah, and then we fell into this pit and these big freaky root things came out of the walls and started to attack us.  They were everywhere, swinging and grabbing at us. The swords that Jonathan and that other guy had fell in down there with us, so Buffy grabbed them.  Anyway... she couldn't handle all those creepy things so she gave me one of the swords and-"  By this point Dawn was up on her feet demonstrating her sword fighting prowess.  "-together we kicked some serious demon butt." 

Seeing her pride and enthusiasm about those events made Spike feel better; the two women he loved had each other in their time of need. Neither of them had to be alone. They were able to draw strength from each other.

"So Bit, tell me, how did it all end? What finally stopped Willow?" 

"Actually...that's the kinda funny part," Dawn replied thoughtfully.  "It wasn't weapons or magic or anything.  Well, I guess there was sort of something with the magic, but I don't exactly get that.  Anyway. It was Xander."

"Xander?" Spike asked in disbelief.  _What could that wanker have done?_

"Yeah. I guess it was just him telling Willow over and over that he loves her.  I guess it eventually struck a cord."

"Goes to show that if you tell someone you love them often enough," Buffy's voice preceded her as she entered the room, "eventually they come to believe you." She stared deep into Spike's blue eyes, and smiled.


	7. The Long Night

Seven:  THE LONG NIGHT

The rest of the evening passed largely without incident.  Shortly after Buffy had gone back downstairs, everyone agreed it was time for bed.

Dawn was the first to retire --- realizing from Buffy's interjection that perhaps her sister needed some time alone with their long-lost friend.  "Well, I'm going up.  I'll just be a couple of minutes in the bathroom and then I'm sure I'll be asleep before my head hits the pillow.  Yep. and I'm so tired, I could probably sleep through anything," the younger Summers finished with a gleeful grin.  Dawn felt closer to her sister the past few months than ever before and she knew something of the emptiness Buffy felt with Spike away.  Seeing them together now, made Dawn so happy. 

"Night," she called back as she raced up the stairs leaving other two alone in an awkward moment of silence.

Spike cleared his throat. "Buffy," he began apprehensively as he got up from the couch. "I'm knackered.  Would it be alright if we just called it a night?"

Feeling both her relief and fatigue, Buffy sighed.  "Sure.  I could use some sleep.  Didn't get much last night."

His eyes were full of empathy as hers met them.  He knew that his unannounced return had raised questions and brought up a lot of unresolved emotion.  They'd been up late together the previous night, and Spike was certain Buffy remained awake long after he'd dropped off.  Breaking their gaze, Spike took Buffy's hand, much as she had done his earlier that day, and led her upstairs.   When they reached her door, he gave her a chaste tender kiss then whispered, "Sleep well, my love."

Buffy gulped and felt light-headed.  "Night," she managed to get out before slipping into her room and closing the door.

------- o -------

_Sleep well, my love,_ his hushed words played over in her head as she leaned against the door for support. _...my love._  Part of her wanted to throw the door open and drag him into her room and spend the night entwined with him in a sweaty mass of flesh and fury.  The other couldn't help but find this softer side of Spike endearing, sweet, and. damned sexy.  _Gee, maybe that side wants to get sweaty too._  Buffy shuddered trying to shake off some of her arousal_. ...my love._ But still his whisper repeated, making her sure that settling in for the night would be nearly impossible.

Already in pajamas from after her shower, Buffy slipped off her robe and climbed into bed.  She pulled a magazine from her nightstand and began to flip idly through the pages.  Exhausted from the events of the past 24 hours, it wasn't long before she drifted off.

------- o -------

When her door closed, Spike turned and darted for the master bedroom --- Willow's room, where Buffy had settled him the night before.  He had to get away quickly lest he throw open Buffy's door and waiting be damned. 

He dropped himself on the bed lifting his hands to rub his forehead.  "What the bleeding hell were you thinking?!" Spike chided with a clenched jaw, under his breath.  "Sleep well, my love?!  My love?!"  _I can't do this.  I can't be so close to her and not have her.  This is too hard._  The pain in his chest built.  _I'm not strong enough to stay away from her... I want her to love me, not my words.  _He took a deep breath and shook his head. _Just gotta stop filling 'er 'ead with pretty words... Gotta give her time... Wait 'til she comes to me. I want her to love me. Buffy, love me!_ He closed his eyes as his voice screamed in his head.__

 "I want her."  He got up and went into the hall.

------- o -------

Her eyes still shut, Buffy heard the click of the doorknob and the soft creak of the hinges as the door to her room opened then closed.  She stirred feeling movement and heat beside her running the length of the bed.  Rolling over, away from the light of the lamp she must have left on, Buffy forced her eyes open.

_Your beautiful eyes... _she thought as her gaze met his gentle blue.  She felt her heart begin to race as she uttered, "I'm so glad you're here... with me... now.  Spike, I love you."

His lips twitched; brow furrowed; eyelids blinked rapidly.  He took a deep breath and tried to hold back the tears of elation at her words.  Alas, this was a challenge he would not conquer. He began to weep.  "Oh Buffy," the words caught in his throat.  "I've waited so long to hear you say those words."  Overtaken by emotion, he leaned into her, crushing his mouth on hers, sending her heart leaping from her chest. 

Her tears flowed to blend with his on their cheeks.

Tightly they clung one to the other in a frantic embrace.  Their tongues explored the warm moist caverns of each other's mouth in a dizzying series of flutters and stabs. Together each tasted the other with a passion neither had ever known.  Arms and legs pulled together as if to melt their bodies as one. 

"Closer!" she pleaded, wanting the distance of their time apart to be forever forgotten.

"Yes luv. Yes," Spike gasped.

Buffy needed to feel her skin on his.  She hungered for it.  Tenacious, she would not be denied.  In a staggering series of motion, she pushed him away only long enough to allow herself to rip off the confining garments that dared separate their aching bodies.  

The glistening flesh, now freed from the confines of her tank top, made for a sight impossible for her lover to resist.  His mouth was upon her once more, as his hands explored the newly bared skin.   With one strong arm wrapped behind her back, he ensured she would be unable to leave him again.  His other hand kneaded her breast.  Inflamed by want of the taste of her breast, he released her mouth.  His pace slowed, now, as he cascaded pecks down her neck, over her shoulder, her chest, to the focus of his hunger.  

Buffy found herself engulfed by the searing furnace of his mouth.  "More," she cried desperately as she explored the sinewy being beside her. 

At her invitation, Spike's hand descended over her quivering abdomen to rest between her thighs. 

At his touch, her voracity intensified.  With lust overtaking her, she rolled him to his back.  Hovering above him, her hands sought the source of such heat as she did not remember and had never even imagined.  After only moments, the heat and intensity overwhelmed her and Buffy was no longer able to control her need of him.  She had to have him... now.  "Spike!" she squeaked almost breathlessly.  She shuddered.

And he was gone. 

Buffy opened her eyes and realized it was only a dream --- a dream so vivid that it left her heart racing, her breathing shallow, and her pajamas dripping from her spent passion.

------- o -------

He stood outside her closed door.  Holding his hand to it, he imagined he could sense her through that door.  His mind flashed back to a night months ago when, through the door of his crypt, he had done just that.  Whenever he remembered that night, he longed to freeze time with the erotic sensation he'd felt standing at that door.  But, as had been so often the case, his mind flew ahead to other events.  Tightly he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to rid himself of the images of that night that still haunted him. 

In the days and weeks since his soul was returned, Spike had had flashes of so many of the things he'd done in his life as a vampire, of the places he'd been... of the people he'd killed.  Any pang of guilt he felt from those pictures paled when compared with how he suffered when catching in his mind glimpses of Buffy in turmoil.

She'd run off without seeing him that night.  When he found her, afraid and confused by what was happening around her, Buffy looked so fragile.  The demons in the woods had twisted time, and in a flurry of fists and feet, Buffy thought she'd killed that girl.  The hopeless and helpless look of shock on her face wasn't that of his Slayer but of a lost little child.  She needed to atone for what she'd done, but he couldn't let her throw her life away... couldn't bear to lose her again.

She wouldn't hear reason.  All he could do was to drive her to release her remorse at what she'd done that night, opening the flood gates of her anguish at having ever been with him.  It cut him to the core to hear her words that night:  _"There is nothing good or clean in you... You can't feel anything real. I could never be your girl."_  Those words echoed even still and in spite of how things had been between them since he'd come back, Spike couldn't help but wonder if she could ever really accept him, soul or no soul.  Even as a living breathing man.

And still he saw her expression when, after she'd unleashed all her power and rage upon his demon face, she saw his broken human one.  The shame and horror at her action spoke through that look.  _But Buffy, I wanted you to put it on me.  To take out your aggression on me.  To help you.  To stop you from hurting.  It's alright, luv._

With clenched fists, he growled, "Stop this!"

"Spike."

He opened his eyes, thinking he'd heard her whisper his name.  The sound softened him... eased his pain, his tension.  He unclenched his fist, took the tips of his fingers to his lips, placed a kiss on them then patted those kisses lightly on her door.  Going into the bathroom, he splashed water on his face then stood staring at himself in the mirror.   In his eyes, there was a familiar pain that now he could see.

------- o -------

Preoccupied by her dream, Buffy hadn't even noticed the light was already on when she wandered into the bathroom.

"Buffy." Spike uttered softly, startled by her entrance.  He sniffed and swept the tears from his face.

"Ack!" She jumped. 

"Sorry. I was just goin'."  He moved to go around her to the door, trying to hide his face from her view.

"No, no.  Spike.  It's OK."  She shook her head then looked at him.  It was clear to her that he'd not been having an easy night.  "What's the matter?"

He sighed.  "Just part of the burden of my new soul," he replied, knowing full-well that this pain preceded his soul. _I'm just so afraid you'll never really love me_. "But what about you?  You're lookin' a little outta sorts yourself."

Buffy's face, already blushed from her fantasy, darkened another few shades. "I... ah... had a bad dream."  _Well, actually I had a fantastic dream about the two of us that..._

"D'ya want to talk about it?" he inquired with concern.

"Ah... No. It'll be all right. I just need to splash some water on my face."  _Take a cold shower and burn these pajamas._

"Well, I'll leave you to it, shall I?" he asked somewhat rhetorically.

"Yeah, thanks."

_Thank God.  Can't be around her right now.  Seein' her without touchin' 'er is just too bloody hard_.  "Good night, then."  Spike exited the bathroom.

"Spike," Buffy called to him.  _What did you do that for?  Maybe he didn't hear.  Please.  Please._

His blond head popped into the doorway, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

"Good night," she smiled.


	8. Avoidance

Eight:  AVOIDANCE

Buffy lay in bed, evaluating her plans for that day. _Survey Spike's crypt, possibly fight and dust half a dozen or so unwelcome guests:  no big.  Grocery shopping:  no big.  Sit through dinner with Xander and Spike:  ah... where do I order an Apocalypse?_

She expected it to be hard enough to be near Spike with her sister in the room after the erotic dream she'd had about him the night before, but throw Xander into the mix?!  Xander hated Spike --- even before he knew Spike had attacked her that evening before he left; even before he'd seen Spike having sex with Anya through the nerds' surveillance link at the Magic Box.  Anticipating the evening ahead gave Buffy a sense of dread akin to job interviews, parent-teacher conferences, and visits from Social Services.

------- o -------

It was almost noon when Buffy got up to dress and face the day. 

Dawn was in the kitchen pouring over cookbooks and grocery store flyers.  "Hey Buffy.  You sleep OK?" she asked as her older sister padded into the kitchen.

"Yeah... ah... I guess. "  Buffy took a glass from the dish rack and poured some juice.  "What are you doing?" she inquired nodding at the pile of books and papers.

"Oh, I'm just putting together a list of stuff I need for dinner tonight," explained the younger Summers enthusiastically.  "I want it to be extra special with Spike home and all."

"Spike is not 'home'.  He's just. here," Buffy corrected.  "So... Do you need me to go shopping later?"

"No.  Spike said he'd go," Dawn answered, turning back to her list.

"Where is Spike anyway?" asked Buffy, noting that she hadn't heard him around since she awoke.

Without looking up, Dawn replied casually, "Oh he said he was going to check out his crypt.  I guess he wanted to pick up some stuff."

Not sure whether to be worried or annoyed with Spike, Buffy blurted, "He what?!  When did he leave?!"

Dawn set down her pen and looked up, trying to read more about her sister's mood than what she'd gotten from the tone in her voice, "Not too long ago.  He had to wait for his laundry to dry first.  Why?"

"Spike was doing laundry?"  Uncertain why it never occurred to her before that he did laundry, the senior Summers couldn't help but visualize Spike in her basement wearing Willow's bathrobe _--- scratch that: a towel --- scratch that --- nothing but a smile ---Stop that! Stop thinking about him like that!_

"Dawn, I've got to go to Spike's," she said as she dug in the drawer for a couple of stakes.  "You'll be alright here?"

"Sure. What's the big?"

"Last night we found a party sized group of vamps in Spike's crypt and we weren't sure whether they were just visiting.  They could still be there and Spike might not be safe on his own," she explained.  "They'll be able to tell that he's human.  And he's not as strong as he used to be."  Saying the words aloud brought Buffy's fear to the forefront and distress was evident on the Slayer's face.

"You're worried, huh?"

"Yes, Dawnie. I am," she replied woefully.  "We just got him back, and... I've got to go."

------- o -------

"Bugger it... bleedin' inconsiderate gits.  No respect."  

Spike's crypt lay largely in ruin, though fortunately last night's band of vamps was nowhere to be seen.

"And no thought to picking after yourselves," he added with disgust at the couple of fresh corpses that now decorated his former home.  He huffed, and went down below to collect what he'd come for.

Little of the cave under the crypt had been salvageable after the scheme to sell Suvolte demon eggs literally blew up.  With it being such a mess down there, he hoped any would-be thieves might not bother to poke around.  He lit a torch then made his way to the farthest darkest corner of the cave.  There, beneath a pile of rubble, he found what he'd come for: a small metal storage chest about the size of a shoebox. With a shake, he figured it hadn't been touched since he'd been away so he tucked the box under his arm and headed out.  

As he climbed the ladder, a figure loomed overhead.

"What are you doing here?" boomed an angry voice, startling him.

"Slayer..." he replied in a knee-jerk response to her tone.  _Damned sight easier to know she was around as a vampire!_ he thought.  "Just pickin' up a few things."

She stood over him shaking her head.  "I know that, but I thought we were going to come here together.  You couldn't have known those vamps weren't living here now."  Scowling, she scolded, "It was really stupid of you to come alone."

A cocky grin crossed his lips and a gleam brightened in his eyes.  "You were worried about me."

"Yes... I mean no... I mean, you should've waited."  She was flustered.  _This is the same old Spike,_ she concluded.  "So what's in the box?"

Self-consciously, he held tight to the chest.  "Just a few things I've picked up over the years.  S'nothing."

"Well, do you need anything else here?"  Looking at the mess, Buffy couldn't imagine anything else would be worth taking back to her place.

"Nope.  S'pose this is about it.  Poncy buggers took or broke just about everything," he responded with an almost sad tone as he glanced around at the remains of the place that had been his home for his "best" years in Sunnydale.  "Shall we go then?"

------- o -------

When they arrived back at the house on Revello Drive, without a word, Spike stole upstairs with his lock box.

"Whatever..." Buffy mumbled as she went through to the kitchen to find Dawn now digging through the cupboards getting ingredients out for dinner.  "Boy, you really are taking this seriously," stated the older sister.

"Oh, hey Buffy.  Is Spike with you?" asked Dawn anxiously.  "I thought I heard him clunking up the stairs. Only I really need someone to go to the store soon or dinner'll be late."

"Yeah, he's upstairs," Buffy confirmed. _Hiding his secrets._ "Do you want me to get him?"  Without even waiting for a response, Buffy headed to the stairs.  She wanted an excuse to see what Spike was up to.  _Damn, door's closed.  I can't just barge in. not anymore._  She knocked.

Through the door, Buffy could hear some thumping and scraping then footsteps approaching before Spike finally opened the door.

"Dawn wondered if you were still going to pick up the groceries."

"Sure, just giv'us a minute." Then he closed the door again.

"Whatever..." she muttered again.

------- o -------

Later that afternoon, Spike arrived back with everything Dawn had asked for plus a small bouquet of flowers for her.  

Dawn giggled with delight at his thoughtfulness.  "No one's ever brought me flowers before.  That's so sweet."  She gave him a peck on the cheek then went to find a vase.

"That really was kind of you, Spike," said Buffy, squeezing his hand.  _Is he blushing?_ She found discovering these little changes in Spike fascinating; things so inherently human that she didn't even notice them in others, but which because they were new in him made them so intriguing.

"Buffy," Dawn called from the dining room. "Can you give me a hand?"

Feeling a little awkward about whether to say anything more, Buffy left Spike alone in the kitchen and went to see what her sister needed.

Spike sorted through the bags he'd brought home, grabbed a couple and snuck back upstairs.

"He's sure acting weird," Dawn exclaimed upon hearing footsteps climb the stairs.  

Then a door closed.

"He's been through a lot," said Buffy sympathetically.  "I think he still needs time to adjust."

------- o -------

A few hours later, Xander arrived and let himself in.  "Hello?  Anybody here?"

"In here, Xander," the girls called from the kitchen.

"Now this is what I like to see," he teased the tall brunette. "Beautiful women hard at work in the kitchen."

"Xan-der," Dawn snickered.

He approached the fairer haired sister and grunted, "Is he here?"

"Yes Xander. Spike's here," Buffy indignantly replied.  "He's upstairs resting."

"Well I guess that stands to reason what with it being the middle of the day," he retorted sarcastically.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying that that's what he does. You know the whole creature-of-the-night- sleeping-during-the-day thing."  Bitterly he added, "What I don't get, is why he's sleeping here?"

Dawn piped up from the stove, "You mean Xander doesn't know?"

"Xander doesn't know what?" he asked in an almost monotone voice.

"It's Spike."  Buffy looked sheepishly at her friend.

"What about Spike?" He was beginning to get frustrated with the conversation.

"He's human!" exclaimed Dawn.

"Human.  I don't understand," Xander said flatly. 

"It's a long story but while he was away, he... got back his humanity."  As the words left her mouth, Buffy thought they sounded wrong. "That is, now he's got a soul and he's actually alive."

"By 'alive' you mean: beating heart, breathing air, eating people food instead of people for food, catching some rays on the beach without smelling like a barbecue, alive?" Xander wanted to be absolutely clear.

"Yep. That's what I'm saying."  Buffy paused.  "He's been through a lot."  _I keep saying that..._  "Could you just take it easy on him tonight? For me?"

"How could I resist those beautiful green eyes?"  Xander agreed, "I'll do my best."

Buffy smiled then quipped, "You can go back to hating him tomorrow."


	9. A Guest for Dinner

Nine:  A GUEST FOR DINNER

Dinner had been strained.  No one said very much.  Buffy had attempted to keep up pleasant dinner conversation (at least in so much as talking about demons and vampire nests could be considered "pleasant").  Dawn kept offering everyone more to eat to fill the uncomfortable silence.  

Buffy cleared her throat, "That was really delicious, Dawn."

"Sure was Dawnster. You outdid yourself," added Xander.

"Thanks guys," the young brunette replied happily as she stood to begin clearing the table. She noticed their houseguest needed to be rescued from his discomfort. "Spike, could you give me a hand with this stuff?" she requested with a nod to the table.

"Right. ah. Sure."  He put Buffy's utensils with his own on his plate then slid hers underneath before grabbing a bowl of mashed potatoes, carrying all to the kitchen.

Buffy waited until they'd gone before beginning.  "Xander. I really appreciate... "

Her friend sat across the table staring into the kitchen shaking his head.  "I just can't believe it.  He sure seems like the same old Spike.  A bit quieter I guess --- and, so not complaining here.  But I guess I pictured him... I don't know more... different."

Buffy sighed.  "Just goes to show that when it comes to anything --- or anyone --- there's a whole lot more grey in the world than black and white.  I mean, it used to be so clear:  people good; vampires bad."

"I guess we know now that isn't always true," Xander muttered, and Buffy recognized as she looked at him, he wasn't talking about Spike anymore.  His thoughts had turned to Warren and Willow and the nightmare of that past spring, which had left one of them dead, the other emotionally broken --- to say nothing of the other chaos they caused.

"So, have you heard from Will lately?" Buffy inquired gently.  Although she had kept in touch with Willow via e-mail, she knew it wasn't the same as being there... seeing her, or even as talking to Willow on the phone.  Computers just couldn't carry a person's real emotions.

"Not in a few weeks.  She sounded better then, but still so...fragile.  Helpless, you know?" he answered sadly.

After another awkward quiet period, Buffy and Xander began busying themselves with helping clear the table.

------- o -------

When dinner was put away, the four gathered in the living room for a little planning session.

"So, it's like I was saying:  there was a group of vamps, not sure how many, hanging out in Spike's crypt," Buffy reiterated.  "Usually a couple of vampires getting together wouldn't bother me that much, but something tells me there's more to it this time.  I think we should check it out tonight."  The Slayer looked at her sister.  "All of us.  And we should go prepared for a fight."

------- o -------

Beaming with pride at having been asked along, Dawn came armed with her favourite weapon: a Super-Soaker Water Gun loaded with holy water, plus a backpack of extra attachable reservoirs.  The Slayer was still apprehensive about having her little sister going hand-to-hand with vamps, but she knew Dawn needed to feel a part of the action.  The holy water gun was a compromise; she could hang back from the group and keep an eye out for any stray vamps that wanted to join in the fight.

Spike had a queer feeling in the pit of his stomach. He'd gone into fights like this before but he knew things were different now that he was human. Now that he was a mere mortal, he was approaching this fight with some things he never had before: a rapid pounding in his chest, brisk shallow breaths, and a touch of fear.  _No problem. Just remindin' me I'm alive,_ he tried to assert.

Buffy worried a little about what lay ahead of them.  They could be in for quite a battle if the vamps were beginning to congregate to hatch some kind of evil plan.  Although she knew her three comrades had skill, she was all too aware that they didn't have the strength in their numbers they'd had when Spike was a vampire.

Crossbow in hand and very focussed on where they were headed, Xander just wanted to dust some vampire ass.

They hadn't even arrived at the crypt when Buffy realized this might be tougher than she'd anticipated.  Scouting out ahead, she could see several vamps outside the crypt talking (and snacking) and was sure they'd find more inside.  _Can't put this off another night. Only going to get worse._  Huddling the group together, she laid out her plan.  "I'll get the two guys over there. Xander, do you think you could manage those other two, there.  Try to get them before they can alert the others inside.  You'll have to be quick reloading so you can get them both."

"I'll do my best."

"Spike, you hang back with Dawn 'til we've got those guys out of the way."  _Please read that as 'take care of her'_, she thought, _not 'you're a big wimp and I don't want you to get hurt'. I can't handle your pouting just now. _"When you see them dusted, we'll all take on the group inside. Stick close. Watch each other's backs, OK?"

"Right." Everyone was ready, and the assault began.

------- o -------

Things went surprisingly as planned, at first.  Buffy got her two vamps out with little more than a groan each.  Xander's shooting was right on the mark, a carry-over from his night as soldier guy, dusting his two with an ease that impressed even him.  When they assembled at the door to the crypt, the real fun was about to begin.  

There were a lot more vampires hanging out that night than had the one before.

Xander clipped a couple early while they were still distracted.

Buffy stood tall in the entrance.  "Is this a private party, or can anyone join?"  Then all hell broke loose. (Well, not literally. I forget sometimes that this IS Sunnydale. Hello-o? You remember: Hellmouth. Here, a person should never say that Hell is breaking loose if it isn't.)

In prior skirmishes, Dawn had learned it is good to aim high and squirt vampires in the face. Holy water hitting the exposed flesh made for some distracting sizzling.  If she got them in the eyes, all the better.  Either way, with them clutching at their burning faces, dusting them was a whole lot easier.  She zapped a few vamps directly and then sprayed over the crowd before reloading.

Buffy and Spike were each fighting multiple vamps at once.  Initially everything seemed fine.  He was giving every bit as hard as he ever had: lunging and thrusting at his opponents.  But eventually, Spike began to feel fatigued.  _Bugger! That's something I never realized,_ he thought. _This is bloody exhausting!_ He stumbled then was grabbed from behind.

------- o -------

With most of the dust now settling (literally), Buffy realized that Spike was gone. She finished off the remaining vamps then rushed to Dawn, who was still keeping guard of the door.  "Dawn.  Where's Spike?" Buffy demanded.  "Did one of the vamps grab him? Did they get away?"

"Nothing came through here. Try the trapdoor," she motioned, her gun still at the ready.

_Man, this kid really can handle herself,_ the Slayer noted of her sister.

The trap was open and as they stood overhead they could see a glow from below.

Cautiously descending the ladder, Buffy could hear voices.

"Well, isn't this a surprise," hissed a familiar woman's voice. "My sweet Blondie Bear... and doesn't he smell delicious."

"Ah... Harm," Spike said, trying to sound relaxed, but Buffy read it more as uneasy.

As she approached, the Slayer could see two burly vampires, each clutching one of Spike's arms while Harmony, still in human-mask, circled the now shirt-less former vamp.

_Boy, even scared he looks hot._  "Focus you twit," she mumbled.

"What was that, Buff?" Xander piped up as he came down the ladder. 

She just shook her head and waved him off, indicating it was nothing.

"Well, what do you know, boys," Harmony sneered.  "Looks like we've got more guests." Directing her commentary to the Slayer, she continued, "I'm afraid you're just going to have to wait until I've finished my entrée here, Buffy."  Suddenly she was in game face, fangs poised at Spike's jugular. 

Buffy couldn't move; terror overwhelmed her.  At that moment, the Slayer was gone and all that was left was the woman in her, paralysed by the sight of the imminent death of the man she loved.

As Harmony went in for the kill, Spike's azure eyes caught Buffy's gaze.  Through them she saw an outpouring of sadness and love that struck her to the core.

Bursting as if out of nowhere, Dawn was upon the group, firing holy water with marked precision.  "Get away from him!"

At the same time, Xander fired off a bolt from the crossbow turning one of the henchmen to dust.

Harmony hissed in pain, pulling her face and fangs from Spike's bloodied throat  before dropping him limp to the ground.

Abandoning their missile weapons, Dawn and Xander charged forward stakes now in hand. Xander brought a quick end to the second massive vampire, while Dawn shoved Harmony against the rough wall of the cave.  Pinning her stake to the cheerleader-vamp's chest, she delivered in a low tone, "Nobody steals my sister's boyfriend!"  Then with all the force in her slender body, Dawn ran the stake through her foe's heart.  Turning, she saw Xander drop to Spike's motionless body. 

"It's OK, Dawn," Xander replied, seeing the fearful question in the girl's eyes.  "He's alive.  His pulse is weak, but he's alive.  Weird.  Still can't believe I'm saying that:  Spike's alive."  Xander just knelt staring into the darkness, shaking his head in amazement that this creature so long undead was in fact alive, if only barely.

"Buffy!" Dawn called to her sister.

Buffy hadn't moved. She stood perfectly still, a look of horror and helplessness on her face.

Rushing in with a comforting hug, Dawn asserted, "Buffy, he's OK. Spike's alright."

"I think we should get him to a hospital, Dawn," Xander cautioned, lifting the man in a fireman's hold over his shoulders.

"Buffy... Buffy please. Snap out of it," cried the teen.  "He's OK. He'll be OK."


	10. AfterShock

Ten:  AFTERSHOCK

"Shock is a serious condition most often brought about by major injury or fear.  It can easily be overlooked, but if left uncared for, a victim of shock may develop serious problems." 

-- from the _Staying Alive_ Website (library.thinkquest.org) D. Roman, F. Brahic, P. Roman.

------- o -------

Xander set Spike down on the grass at the edge of the cemetery.  After removing his own coat and placing it over the pale man's body, he turned to check on the two Summers girls:  Dawn was struggling to keep her sister moving through the darkness. 

His mind travelled back to another time when he'd seen Buffy in a similarly state of comatose, after Glory had stolen the younger girl away, intent on killing her.  "Willow," Xander cried almost silently, "I wish you were here.  I don't know what to do."  On that awful night, almost a year and a half before, they feared they'd lost Buffy to her own mind but Willow took charge, made a plan and gave the orders.  Willow brought Buffy back.  Willow had always been the strong one.  Willow could always bring Buffy back, if only she were there now.

Xander knew he had to do something.  Reaching down into the pocket of his jacket, he pulled out his cell phone.  Taking a deep breath to strengthen his resolve, he dialled the only number he could think of at that moment.  With a sense of dread, he waited.

"Hello?" a groggy voice answered.

"Anya..." he said apprehensively.  "I need your help."

"Xander?!  It's the middle of the night.  What do you want?" asked the now frustrated voice.

"It's Buffy... and Spike."  His chest ached as he begged his former love to help him rescue the man with whom he'd watched --- in horror --- her have sex, months ago; the man who at that time, he'd wanted dead.

"I'm doing this for them, Xander Harris," the woman cautioned, then in a gentler tone she added, "I'll be there in a few minutes."

Xander sighed in relief and moved to replace his phone.

"Harris..." the ragged voice caught his attention.

"Spike."  Meeting the man's pale face, he muttered, "I can't believe I'm saying this but, thank God you're alright."

"Don't know as I'd go that far, mate," Spike spoke weakly but with a slight smile.  "But I will be." He paused, taking an agonized breath.  "Buffy?"

"She's alive, Spike.  Dawn's coming with her now."  He hesitated, unsure what to tell the frail man beneath him.  "I think she's in shock."

Clear blue eyes looked at him, concerned and questioning.

"Like when Glory took Dawn," Xander added grimly.

Spike closed his eyes and in the glow of the streetlight, a tear glistened down the side of his face. 

"Everything's going to be OK," Xander tried to comfort.  "Anya's bringing the car.  We'll get you both looked after."

------- o -------

After Anya arrived, she pulled blankets from the trunk of her car.  Dawn unbuttoned her sister's snug leather jacket to ease her breathing as Anya wrapped a blanket around Buffy's tiny solemn figure.

Xander tossed his jacket aside.  Raising Spike slightly, he slid a blanket behind the weakened man's back then wrapped it around his bare ivory chest. "Awn?"  As he lifted Spike's lethargic form, Xander nodded to the car.  "Could you give me a hand here?" 

Anya opened the rear passenger door then went around to the driver's side and helped Xander settle Spike in across the back seat.

"Dawn," he called.  "I'll look after Buffy.  Could you climb in here with Spike?"  Xander paused as he waited for Dawn.  "If you can manage, could you sit there and put his feet up on your lap.  We really should try to elevate his feet, I think..."

Anya took the wheel as Xander returned to the car with Buffy in his arms.

"Where should we go now?" Anya asked before starting the engine.  "The hospital?  He doesn't look very well...still ruggedly handsome but-"

"Awn," said Xander with an I-don't-want-hear-this tone at the same time a weary voice piped up from the backseat.

"Appreciate the compliment, pet."

"Spike!" Dawn squealed.

"Yeah, Nibblet.  I'm fine.  Just a bit tired is all.  If it's all the same with you lot, I just as soon take Buffy home," he instructed as he struggled to sit up.

"Spike, just stay down!" Xander ordered sternly, then eased back, "at least until we get to the house."

Feeling dizzy, Spike complied without further argument.

------- o -------

Xander carried Buffy up to her room as Dawn and Anya helped Spike into the house.  

Once inside, Spike shook the women off and made his way up the stairs gripping tightly to the railing.  "I'll take it from here."  He glared at Xander, who was standing over Buffy's reclined frame.  _Give the man a break, you ponce.  He just saved your life!  _When Xander moved to leave the room, Spike put one hand on his arm then outstretched the other.  "Thanks, Xander," he said.

Taking the offered hand, Xander shook it and replied, "What can I say?  It's Buffy."  Giving a sad smile with knitted brows, Xander sighed and closed the door behind him.

------- o -------

Spike stalked cautiously to where Buffy lay on her bed.  "It's alright, luv.  Lemme take care of you."  Gently, he sat her up and removed her jacket, tossing it to the trunk at the foot of the bed. "Now that's better, isn't it?" 

Going to her dresser, he began to rummage through the drawers for something loose and comfortable for her to wear.  _Hmm...__ what have we here?_  He couldn't help but grin when he found a black men's t-shirt in his size and preferred brand.  Pulling it from the drawer, he returned to Buffy.

She continued to stare, straight ahead, with a look that could have been described as 'emotionless' but which Spike saw as 'frightened'.

_This isn't about sex,_ he had to remind himself as he undressed Buffy's delicate form.  He began by unbuttoning her white cotton blouse, setting it next to her, then followed with her lacy bra, taking a deep breath and looking away as he removed it --- in an attempt to keep his arousal in check.  He eased the T-shirt over her head then guided each arm through the sleeves. "That's my girl."  Finding the zipper of her leather pants, he lay her down as he unfastened and slid the skins from her toned silky legs.

He pulled back the duvet from the opposite side of the bed then, with unmatched care, he scooped up the frail wide-eyed creature he loved so deeply.  After settling her down, he tucked the duvet upon her.  As he sat down next to her, he ran his open palm gently over the length of her face encouraging Buffy to close her eyes.  Looking at her, he fought back tears, imagining how she must be suffering inside.

The painful quiet was interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

Stealthily, Spike moved to open it a crack.

"Spike... I brought you something to help get your strength back," said Dawn nervously, holding a tray of cheese, crackers, a mug of soup and glass of tomato juice.

"Thanks. That was right thoughtful of you."

"Actually... ah... it was Xander's idea," she corrected sheepishly. 

_Getting awfully hard to dislike the whelp.___

"How's Buffy?"

"She's resting," Spike said as he opened the door wide enough for Dawn to see Buffy asleep in bed.  "Let's give her tonight, shall we?  Hopefully sleep's all she needs."

"You'll stay with her, won't you Spike?" his 'Little Bit' pleaded.  "She shouldn't be alone now.  She'd want you there with her, I just know she would."

"I'll look after her," he assured, raising a hand to his young friend's quivering chin, "just like I used to take care o' you, lamb."

Dawn smiled, handed him the tray and pulled the door closed behind her, leaving Buffy alone in the care of the man who, Dawn had accepted long before her sister, loved her more than anything even his own (un)life.


	11. Catharsis

Eleven:  CATHARSIS

With Buffy settled in bed, Spike switched off all but the inverted shade lamp in the corner by the bed.  In the dim light, he sat on the floor taking in all the food he'd been brought, realizing only then how famished he truly was.  Physically fortified, but emotionally drained, he decided to prepare himself for the night so he crept out of Buffy's room to the master bedroom.

When he was shopping for Dawn earlier that day, Spike picked up some pajamas, figuring (and rightly so) that wandering in his regular sleeping attire (i.e. the nude) probably wasn't the best idea with an impressionable teen in the house.  As long as Spike was a guest in the Summers' home, he would have to be more modest.  He tossed his jeans and T-shirt on the bed then slipped on the loose fitting drawstring pants.  From a small travel duffle, he took his shaving bag and proceeded to the bathroom.

Shaving was so different now that he could actually see himself.  After doing it for more than 120 years without a reflection though, he rarely bothered to look up even now.  Spike was still, for all intents and purposes, a tactile guy.

After shaving, he brushed and flossed his teeth, gave his hair a tousle, relieved himself then, leaving the bag behind in the bathroom, returned to Buffy.

------- o -------

She looked so peaceful there, bundled beneath her down-filled covers, pale tawny hair splayed out on the pillow like a halo around her face. 

"So beautiful," came his barely audible remark.  How much he wanted to curl up next to her, to comfort her, to be with her.  _God. I want her._

Tonight that was not to be.  He needed to be invited to her bed, not enter it when she was unable to deny him.  Instead he pulled the extra pillow from Buffy's bed and took a blanket from her closet.  F_or a bloke who's spent the better part of the last century sleepin' on stone and in rat-infested hovels, this isn't so bad, _he tried to convince himself as he settled down on the floor, knowing too well where he'd rather be.

------- o -------

As the early morning light streamed through the bedroom window, Spike roused from a restful sleep.  Clearly the blood loss had taken a toll, as he met sleep with relative ease and maintained it for the balance of the night.  Sitting up, he glanced to the bed to find Buffy gazing at him with a still blank stare and flat face.  _At least she's rolled over. That's progress,_ he thought optimistically.

He raised himself to kneel.  "Good morning, Buffy," he chirped softly, grazing her cheek with his hand.  "Did you sleep alright, luv?"  Spike waited for a response, but neither expected nor received one.  "Well, I had a lovely sleep here.  I'm feeling right strong this morning.  Just a little rest was all I needed."

Still Buffy's eyes were vacant. 

Spike wanted something, anything but that empty expressionless look.  He sat down beside her and pulled her up to sit.  Briefly, he contemplated slapping her across the face and shaking her until she came around, but that hadn't worked the night with Glory. _No sense expecting anything different now, _he figured.  _'Sides, no gates o' Hell openin' up.__ No need to rush this._

Taking her chin in his hand to guide her face to his, he peered deep into her eyes searching for recognition --- cool penetrating blue meeting wide dull green. "Buffy. I need you to look at me. I need to know you're in there, luv. Please," he begged. "I've been apart from you too bloody long. I know I was a stupid git for leavin'. an evil bastard for trying to do to you what I did. But please Buffy. I've already lost you once. Can't stand doin' it again. Yeah, me bein' selfish," he chuckled half-heartedly.

"You know, the one good memory I have from you bein' gone was the night you came back to me... or to... to us, Buffy," Spike stammered.  "You looked so sad when you came down those stairs, but oh, so beautiful, luv.  I wanted to throw my arms around you then. like now.  Make everything better.  Take away all your hurt.

"I know you never believed me. I know you thought I was a monster."  With a shrug, he added, "Bloody hell, maybe you still do --- bverything I've done these past years I've done for you.  Oh."  He let out a heavy breath.  ".not to win you over, not to make you love me.  I did it all because I love you. You made me want to be a better man," he declared proudly. 

"Please luv, come back to me.  I need you.  I love you.  You've got to come back.  I'm nothing without you, my beautiful Buffy."  His eyes shimmered like the warm azure waters of the Caribbean as tears welled up in them.  He squeezed his eyes tightly to let the water that had collected in them cascade down his cheeks.  As he opened them again and refocused on Buffy, he saw a single tear slide down her pale cheek.  "Buffy?" he whispered then he managed a strained but hopeful smile.

As he reached to brush away the tear, she snatched his hand pressing it to her face.  

The joy he felt at that swift and unexpected movement overtook him and he began to weep.  He pulled her hand to his lips and, dropping his head, he peppered it with delicate warm kisses.  His head still down with her hand pulled to his mouth, he felt her other hand grasp his head, pulling it to her chest.

As she held him there, the tears began to flow between them like rain.  "Spike," Buffy's voice quivered.  "I'm sorry.  Sorry I couldn't help you.  Sorry for all the terrible things I said to you. did to you.  Sorry I couldn't believe you.  Sorry I denied loving you."  Buffy was unloading months if not years of stored emotion.  "I was afraid.  Oh, so afraid that it wasn't really you, that it was the chip making you..." she sobbed gasping for breath.  "It wasn't your fault.  Any of it.  It's Angel..."

Hearing the name of his grand-sire struck a hurtful blow.  _Great.__  That Poof's still got hold of you?!  Let him go, Buffy.  He doesn't deserve you._  But Spike kept mum to let the girl have her say.

"I mean... he was everything to me:  my first love... and then when we... and he lost his soul...  The things he said to me." she sniffled.  "I was crushed.  I know that's when I started to build up walls around my heart.  Walls I was so afraid to let anyone break down.  I didn't want to risk that kind of hurt again."  She rubbed her eyes.  "Don't you see? It was so much easier for me to believe you had some kind of agenda.  That you wanted something from me.  Or to think the chip was in control, holding you back... and one day it would stop working, and it would be like with Angel all over again," she huffed.  "I guess I just I didn't want to believe that you could choose to do good, choose love me even without a soul when Angel couldn't," she choked.  "I always thought of Angel as my one perfect love.  But when you left... when I realized you might never come back, I knew-- knew that the pain I felt in losing you was so much worse than when Angel left me. 

"Spike."  She gathered all the composure she could muster, looked him square in his teary blue eyes and said with an outpouring of such sincerity and sentiment that overwhelmed them both, "I love you.  I have for a long time, even before you went away.  I loved you as the demon.  I love you as the man.  Please, don't ever leave me.  Please..."

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Spike took her mouth with his own searing kiss and together they fell into the soft down-filled cloud upon her bed.  As they broke that kiss, he looked at her with her eyes wide and the gates to her heart thrown open.  _This is what I've waited for all my life,_ he thought.

Looking deep into his eyes, she saw the pure elation in him at that moment and felt his love pour out to her, bathing her in its warmth embrace.  _I've waited for my whole life for this,_ she knew.


	12. Good Things Come in Small Packages

AUTHOR'S NOTE: OK, the following is a bit of a throwback to my University days as a Peer Health Educator. If the notion of contraception offends your sense of romance, skip ahead to the first break. (But consider how unromantic the alternatives can be -- besides unplanned pregnancy, there are some pretty nasty diseases out there!)

Twelve:  GOOD THINGS COME IN SMALL PACKAGES

In the bright sunshine of morning, they poured out their hearts to one another and shared a kiss that fortified their love.  Side by side they lay and together they were full; full almost to the point of overflowing.  Looking deeply into each other's eyes -- his azure, her olive -- the smouldering flame began to spread from heart to head, to flesh, to soul.  They ached for each other desperate to bind their love with the joining of their bodies.

Both were hesitant; the previous night had been emotionally as well as physically taxing on each of them. Neither wanted to rush, to pressure, or to hurt the other.

In the end, it was Buffy whose hunger would not be contained; perhaps because she hadn't had the time Spike had had learning to control his lust for her. "Spike, I want you.  I need you."   Then came the words he'd longed for:  "Make love to me." 

She'd never before referred to their encounters in that way -- she'd hardly referred to them at all except in the negative after the fact.  This wouldn't be a long hard shag.  They would make love: two beings expressing their devotion to each other through the pleasures of the flesh. Tender.  Sensual.  Slow.

_Get it together, man.  Don't get ahead of yourself._  He had to remind himself that these were no longer the impulsive days of his unlife.  Nope, this was the sport of 'safer sex' and he was a fully functional member of the team.  As such, he needed to be equipped.  "Yes luv.  I want you.  I want to be with you.  I just need..."

In his eyes she could see the importance of this move.  Buffy understood what he was telling her and, with a tingle in her belly, she let him go.  "Hurry back," she cooed.

He returned moments later, a plastic shopping bag tucked under his arm and his face redder than she'd ever thought possible.

_How weird is that?  A guy who's been around as long as he has so embarrassed about birth control._  Buffy giggled quietly to herself.

As he approached, he emptied the bag's contents onto the bed:  close to a dozen small boxes of various types of condoms.  Reluctant to meet her gaze, he explained, "I. ah. didn't know which to get."  He cleared his throat uneasily.

"Oh Spike!"  Buffy jumped up on the bed and threw here arms around him.  With tears in her eyes, she wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the gesture.  Instead she decided to say the only thing that came to her mind, "I love you!"

Just as the flush of his embarrassment was yielding to that of arousal, Spike felt Buffy stiffen.

She broke free of the embrace.  "Shit!"

"Again with the short snogs?!  What is it now, Summers?"  Spike threw his arms up and glared at her in frustration.

Squinting at the clock by the bed, she muttered "What time is it?" then she began to rummage for clothes --- smiling at the over-sized T-shirt in which, she concluded, Spike had dressed her the night before.  "I've gotta go to work!  Be back about five."  And she was out the door.

"Bloody fickle bird," Spike grumbled under his breath.

------- o -------

Buffy's morning had been very physical:  teaching her kickboxing then spinning classes at the gym, which helped abate her sexual tension.  After her lunch break, however, she had only private client training sessions, which left her largely observing other's weight training form.  Her mind constantly ran to where her body yearned to be:  back in her room and with the gleaming blue eyes and bare chiselled chest of the half-naked man she'd left there.

------- o -------

The sun was low in the horizon by the time Buffy arrived home.  She was keen to shower and change so that she could pick up where she and Spike had left off --- and then need to shower again.  _Though I would so not complain if he threw me down in the foyer and ravaged me when I walk in the door,_ she thought hopefully.

Reaching to open the door, Buffy discovered it locked.  "Huh?  When does anyone ever bother to lock this door?"  She ran the bell then started to rummage through her gym bag for keys.  After she'd unlatched the deadbolt, she stepped inside and set down her bag by the door.  "Hello?  Spike?  Dawn?" she called loudly then trailed off bleakly, "Anybody?"  No response.

She went to the kitchen feeling hungry, alone, and frustrated:  a dangerous combination.  _I need some double fudge brownie icecream._

On the fridge she found a note:

Buffy.

I'm at Janice's. Her mom's teaching us to make tamales.

Back by 10.

~ Dawn ~

"OK. So that's one down.  Where are you, Spike?" she asked the air as she pulled out the icecream.  Feeling sorry for herself and annoyed with Spike, she whimpered, "You would have to pick a night we've got the house to ourselves to disappear."  With a sigh, she decided she needed the shower more than chocolatey comfort, so she put the icecream away --- though not before briefly considering eating said icecream in the shower.

After grabbing her gym bag from the front door, Buffy trudged up the stairs.  When she reached the bathroom door, she tossed the bag down the hall to where it tumbled to a stop on the floor outside her bedroom door.  Turning to go into the bathroom, she proceeded to pull off her top. In an amazing display of multitasking, with the top half off, Buffy flipped the light switch with her free hand as the other arm worked its way out of the shirt.

Buffy hadn't noticed that the lights didn't go on until she had the top fully off.  "What the-"  

The bathroom had been cleared of toiletries and towels, brushes and blow-dryers.  In their place, were dozens of tealight candles and small clusters of wildflowers.  On the edge of the tub was her robe and a fluffy bath sheet (both freshly laundered --- _Spike does do laundry_) plus a bottle of lavender bubble bath.  Next to the bath was small table that had been brought up from the living room.  On it were some elegant canapés nestled on a tiny silver tray, a slightly chilled bottle of sparkling water and a single water goblet.  

_The man thinks of everything --- but don't expect me to believe you made these yourself, Spike,_ she thought eyeing the savoury treats.  "Spike?"  She stuck her head out into the hall.  "Spike?" she called louder as she walked toward the master bedroom.  The door was ajar and the room dark, as she noticed on her way back down the hall was Dawn's.  "Where the hell is he?"

When she went to check her own room (also dark), she found a note on the door:

Welcome home, my Love.

Enjoy a relaxing bath. Back soon.

Spike.

Buffy couldn't help giggling like a schoolgirl.  "Sure," she squealed gleefully.  "For once, Spike.  I'll do what you say without an argument."

------- o -------

She'd been soaking and nibbling about twenty minutes when there was a soft tap on the bathroom door. 

"Need someone to scrub your back?"  His voice, so low and sultry it sent Buffy's heart racing.

"Yes... please," she murmured.

Spike entered wearing a pair of black chinos (rather than his regular jeans), black leather belt, and black dress shirt (instead of a T), with several buttons neglected, revealing his fair skin beneath.

Buffy shuddered at the sight of him in the glow of the candles --- then again when he touched her, scrubbing her back with a rough loofa brush.  It was becoming too much for her:  the steam from the tub, the sight and scent of her love, the sensation of his touch.  Buffy couldn't be alone in the warm bubbly bath with him fully dressed outside of it.  She tried to encourage him in with her, but he resisted.  Frustrated, she began to get out. 

As she did, he held the towel for her then helped her into her robe and tied it up in the front.  Just when Buffy figured this was going to be an agonizingly slow seduction (Whimper-whimper), Spike swept her up in his arms and headed to her bedroom.

Nudging the door open, he placed her on the bed in freshly laundered sheets.

_Could he be any more domestic? If I'd known he had such a laundry fetish, I'd have invited him to stay earlier!_

The room smelled of the night air (from the open window), vanilla (from more candles) and fabric softener. Romantic instrumental music played on the portable stereo.

"Spike, this is incredible," Buffy exclaimed.  "You're incredible!"

"Wanted tonight to be special for you," he said with uncharacteristic shyness.  "Just being here with you makes it so special for me."

_The things he says!_

"Com'ere you," she ordered with a sly twinkle in her eye and lips curling up on one side.

"Don't have to tell me twice."  He met her with an intensely passionate embrace. 

Moaning softly, her mouth opened allowing his warm tongue to dart in and out, teasing her own --- encouraging it to join his game.

Still warm and damp from the bath, Buffy felt herself becoming warmer and damper as the tingle in her abdomen sent ripples throughout her body.  Her hands fumbled as she tried to undo the buttons of Spike's silk shirt --- I_s this real silk?  Or is it just rayon?  What do I care?  Just get it off!  _Fortunately there weren't many buttons fastened to begin, so she managed to remove the shirt without breaking the kiss or ripping the damn thing to shreds.  Now with the garment removed, she began to make her way down to his chest, tasting the salty sweetness of his taut skin on her tongue.  The slight hint of his cologne mingled with his own musk created what for Buffy was an intoxicating bouquet.

With Buffy's hot little hands and moist rough tongue exploring his torso, Spike was feeling the effects of his arousal.  "Buffy.  What you do to me."  The effect of her presence and her actions was undeniable and clearly reflected in the ever-increasing swell in his trousers.  As Buffy removed his belt, Spike busied her mouth with his --- allowing him not only to taste her full lips and curious tongue, but also to unlash the tie of Buffy's terry robe.  Easing away from her as he opened the robe, he was awestruck by the vision before him:  against the stark white of the thick fabric and in the glow of candlelight, Buffy's bronzed skin radiated. "You're beautiful."

A surge of modesty overcame Buffy when she heard his words and saw the enamoured yet lusty look in his eyes.  She pulled up one leg, crossing it coquettishly over the other.

"No luv.  I want to see all of you.  Taste all of you," he soothed.  Gently he straightened the leg then coaxed her knees apart settling his hips between them.  Poised there he could feel the heat radiating between them.

Eager to feast on the banquet of pleasure before him, Spike began to sample Buffy's body with his tongue.  Across her jaw.  Down the side of her throat.  Pausing to gnaw at the base of her neck where once he'd have preferred to bare his demon fangs.  Down to pepper her shimmering breasts with soft kisses.

She moaned and arched into him, displaying both her pleasure and want of more.

With hands and mouth, he began to explore... searching... waiting for her cue...

She gasped.  "Yes, Spike. Right there."  Her breathy voice hushed but demanding.

Both Buffy and Spike enjoyed the sensation as their arousal heightened in waves.

"Spike, please.  I need you.  Now... please."

Anticipation burned.  Screamed in their heads for more.

He eased back from her just long enough to slip off his remaining clothes.  Though only seconds, the time apart seemed to both of them like an eternity without his touch of her body.

He returned to her, now at her side, facing her with a shy smile.  "Buffy," he said in a ragged whisper, "I need you too, luv."  Between two fingers, he held to her view a small plastic packet.

With a coy grin and knowing gleam in her eyes, she took the packet from him and tore it open.  Shifting her angle and attentions, Buffy grasped his shaft firmly with her free hand.  With the other, she pinched the condom's tip, brought it to him, and slowly unfurled it down his full length.

"Buffy!" he cried out, reaching for her --- wanting to share with her; to join their bodies as one; to make love to her.

She returned her mouth to his for a series of delicate kisses before straddling his waist.  Steadying herself over him, she raked her fingernails up the ripples of his abs to rest her hands on the taut muscles of his chest.  As she descended, together they released harmonious groans of pleasure at the sensation.

Their eyes met and it was as if that moment united not only their bodies but their very souls.


	13. AfterGlow

Thirteen:  AFTERGLOW

They'd fallen asleep together, his tight sinewy body encircling her dainty silken one. How safe and loved --- and 'normal' --- Buffy felt with him: a woman in the arms of the man she loved.  How complete he felt to know the love of the woman he adored.

------- o -------

Buffy was roused by the sound of a car door slamming on the street.  Before opening her eyes, she sensed that Spike had left her bed.  Somehow though, she knew he was close by, knew he'd never leave her again.  

As she got out of bed, Buffy picked up his black silk shirt from the floor and slipped it on along with a pair of her sweats.  She hugged herself, deeply inhaling the scent of her lover on his shirt and permeating her own skin.  With an unconscious smile, she set out in search of him.

------- o -------

Spike had awoken earlier with a bit of a start, the images of the past still haunting his dreams.  He'd become accustomed in the weeks since he'd been "reborn" to awakening in this way in unfamiliar surroundings.  At least on this night, he knew where he was --- and was grateful to be there, with his arms around Buffy, who loved him.  Although comforted by his surroundings (and the presence of the smooth feminine nude spooned against him --- perhaps "comforted" isn't the right word given the whole nude spooning thing), Spike felt skittish.  Adrenalin was surging through him, an after-effect of the dream.

_Bitta__ fresh air s'all I need._

Not wanting to wake his sleeping beauty, he gingerly slipped from her bed.  Looking back at her, he noted what seemed like the slightest hint of a smile.  "Amazing," he whispered as he turned to the door to peak out into the hall and ensure the coast was clear of any innocent eyes that might have arrived home since they'd dozed off.  Judging the house to be empty, save himself and Buffy, he crept naked down the hall to Willow's room, where he donned his pajama pants and duster.

------- o -------

He wasn't in the bathroom.  Not in Willow's room or Dawn's.  Not in the living room, dining room or kitchen.  But the backdoor was open.

There on the steps of the back porch, Buffy found Spike, sitting alone.  They'd sat there together so often over the past two years during some of Buffy's more difficult times.  Sometimes they talked; sometimes they just stared silently out into the night.

Seeing him there now, he looked as she always remembered him.  That's when Buffy realized that for the first time since he tried it on after she'd returned it, Spike was wearing his duster.  Buffy hadn't even noticed until that moment that although he'd worn it virtually all day everyday since the first time they'd met, Spike hadn't worn the coat since he'd come back to Sunnydale.

As she looked at him through the open door she considered how different things were now, how much she'd changed.  She no longer felt sadness and fear.  There was no shame at being with him (and no pain, cuts or bruises from having been).  Expressing her love for him, out loud, in words and with her body had liberated her.  _It was a 'bloody revelation'_, she thought, remembering what he'd said to her after the first night they'd had sex so many months before. Tonight, she could believe it.

"Whacha doin' out here?" Buffy inquired coyly, still watching him from the doorway.

"Evenin' luv," Spike said without actually turning back to her.  He'd been crying, and she could tell.

_Poor guy.___

_Pull yourself together ya __nancy__ boy_.  "Come.  Sit with me."  He motioned for her to join him.

"So, what are you doing out here?" Buffy asked again, as she settled herself close to him --- closer than she'd have ever dared or even thought to on any of their previous meetings on that step.  Close enough to feel the comforting warmth of his body.

"Just listenin' to the night."

They sat quietly for a moment.  Then at the same time, they turned to each other and spoke.

"Spike, I just wanted-"

"Buffy, I-"

Both let out a little laugh then turned back to peer into the darkness.  "You go ahead," Spike insisted.

"OK. I just wanted to thank you for all that you did for me, tonight. and last night.  It's been amazing.  No one's ever done so much or made me feel so completely loved.  Desired.  Satisfied."  She finished with a giggle and a roll of her eyes.

"Buffy," he chuckled, "that's sorta what I wanted to say."

More silence. 

Turning to her, he continued, "You know, I've lived a bloody long life, I have.  Outlasted my family by a century.  Friends too.  Traded them in on the promise of the danger and excitement of a creature of the night." 

In his voice, Buffy noted a tone of true sadness and the pain of loss.

He sighed. "Most o' my life, I had Dru.  I loved 'er, I did.  She saved me from my mediocrity," he recalled sardonically.  "So, I took care of 'er.  But she never really loved me.  S'pose I was like one of 'er dolls... A toy to play with.  She chucked me over more than once for the Poo-"  Spike caught himself, then corrected, "-for Angel.  Sod it, plenty more times for whatever demon she was fancyin'.  No matter what I did, no matter how 'ard I tried, she just couldn't love me. Couldn't feel about me the way I wan'ned her to."  Spike paused, staring blankly into the yard.

_Why does he have to talk about Drusilla... about Angel, when everything was going so well?_

_Right then, mate.__  Enough with the self-pity.  On with ya._  "Buffy, I wan'ned to give you somethin''," he said reaching into the pocket of his duster.  Taking her hand in his, _such delicate little hands,_ he placed into her palm a small velvet pouch then closed her hand around it.  He sat like that a while, trying to think what more to say.

Buffy felt a quiver in the pit of her stomach from the intensity of the moment and the touch of his strong warm hands.  At the same time, curiosity burned in her chest, wondering what on Earth could Spike have set in her hand.

"In all my years, I've never felt about anyone else like I do 'bout you.  No one's ever made me feel the way you do."  He snorted, "You used to drive me mad:  dashing my schemes, turnin' up wherever I went, and later...  Well, you got inside me, under my skin.  I couldn't go long without seein' you.  The way you made feel... and now... "  Spike smiled.  "This," he said squeezing the hand that held the pouch, "is somethin' dear to me.  Got it from the first woman ever made me feel loved..."

At his words, Buffy felt uncomfortable:  he was giving her something that had belonged to some other woman, a love from his past. 

"Please luv, op'n it," he entreated, releasing her hand.

She looked at him with a troubled face and saw in his eyes both the sadness of a love long gone and joy in having found love again.  "OK," she agreed apprehensively.  In the pouch, she found a ring with a twisted golden band and three vibrant green stones.

"They're peridot," he said of the gems. "Not so valuable as diamonds or emeralds or such 'course, but the ring's special."

_This was in the lock box he snuck home from his crypt,_ Buffy concluded.  As lovely as the ring was, she found it difficult to appreciate, wondering how he'd come to have it:  had he killed that woman?  Snapped her neck when she rejected him?  Drunk her dry?  _It doesn't really matter I guess.  It belonged to someone else.  Can I just say, "Ew"?_

"Spike, I-" she hesitated.

_That's not really the face I was hopin' for,_ thought Spike as he saw her conflicted expression.  _Well, maybe if you got to the point, you bloody stupid git, she'd understand what you're doin'._  "Buffy, the ring, was me mum's," he explained.  "She wanted me to 'ave it.  Hoped I'd give to the girl I..."  He trailed off, nervous about finishing his sentence. 

Buffy's face softened hearing the loss was of his mother, and brightened at the implication of what he was trying to say.  She smiled at him, wide-eyed.

You're so beautiful. The sight of her change in mood, strengthened his resolve. "You make me feel whole. I want to be with you, by your side, for the rest of my life."

_Oh My God! I can't believe this is happening_, her voice cheered in her mind.

"Buffy. luv, I'm not expectin' a quick answer.  Take your time," he urged gently.  "Think on it.  Whatever you decide, I want you to keep the ring." 

She looked deeply into his soft eyes, trying to coax him to get to the point, though not sure what she'd do once he did.

Gazing back at her, his eyes wide and pupils rimmed with the slightest band of blue in the moonlight. 

_His eyes._

"Will you marry me?"

~* end *~

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An Invitation from the Author:  Did you enjoy this story?  (Comments appreciated)  

Want to see what happens next?  This series continues with the sequel _With This Ring_.


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